


Death Wish

by whatUseeintheshadows



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt Dean, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:34:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatUseeintheshadows/pseuds/whatUseeintheshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rash of unusual suicides brings Dean and Sam to a town where people are killing themselves for no apparent reason. With Sam's sanity hanging by a thread and Dean struggling to deal with his recent losses, will this job push them past their limits and cause one of the brothers to lose his desire to live? Set early season seven.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Do This, Dean

Chapter One: Don’t Do This, Dean

 

Now:  
Sam Winchester wiped the blood away from his eyes and tried desperately to pull his legs free from the debris without causing further injury to himself. He was pretty sure that he hadn’t broken anything except for a couple of ribs and he wanted to keep it that way. But he had to hurry. Dean already had a head start and Sam needed to catch up with him before it was too late. He was certain that he knew what his big brother was going to do and Dean had almost not survived his last attempt. 

Sam managed to get his right leg free, but he was going to have to somehow dig through the pile of ceiling pieces and other junk if he wanted to liberate his left one. The hunter could feel that something had punctured the flesh and if he just yanked it out he’d run the risk of slicing his leg completely open. 

The younger Winchester began grabbing pieces of debris and throwing them away from himself. He hoped that he’d get free in time. The trail of blood that Dean had left behind indicated that he was injured as well, but Sam had no clue if that would even slow him down in his current state.

“What does it matter? Just lie back and let your brother go.”

Sam turned his head and saw Lucifer standing next to him looking down with something akin to amused pity written on his face. But no. It wasn’t Lucifer. That fallen angel was still locked up tight in the cage. This… this was just a hallucination.

“Aww, don’t be like that. You know I’m right. How many times have you told Dean how useless and weak he is. And now, when he finally gets the message, you’re going to run off to his unwanted rescue? What are you? Nuts? Well, yeah… okay, you are but…”

Sam stopped pulling the rubble off of his leg and dug his fingers into his left palm. The image of Lucifer flickered and was gone. Sam turned his attention back to the matter at hand, trying to ignore what the hallucination had said. Sure, it had kind of been true. But Sam had only spat those mean things at his brother when he wasn’t himself or was under a great deal of stress. But he had never meant to cause Dean any pain. And he certainly didn’t want to lose his big brother. Especially not like this.

Finally Sam located the sharp piece of a broken chandelier that had embedded itself in his leg. With a grunt, he pulled it out. Blood ran from the wound and Sam winced as he tried to slow down the flow with his hand. He removed his jacket and undid the buttons on his long sleeve shirt before taking that off as well. Then he wrapped the clothing around his leg and tied it tightly. After putting his jacket back on over his t-shirt, Sam stood up, pleased that his leg would support him. 

Sam limped off, following the trail of his brother’s blood. Truthfully, he didn’t need the trail to find Dean. If the older Winchester was going to do what Sam expected him to do, there was only one place for him to go. So much for their preparations…

Climbing the stairs out of the basement was difficult with his wounded leg, but he’d done more with far worse injuries before. At the top, he turned right and walked quickly down the winding, seemingly endless hall. Sam wanted to run, but knew he wouldn’t be able to. When he reached the large main room, the hunter took the staircase to the left and went up to the second floor. He located the huge library with no trouble and used the spiral staircase inside to reach the third floor. From there Sam exited the library and made his way through yet another long hallway. As he half-limped/half-jogged down the poorly lit passage, he couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Dean’s comments about the mansion’s unusual maze-like setup. But then he sobered as he realized that if he didn’t hurry, memories would be all that he had left of his big brother.

Finally he found the door to the study. Sam grabbed the doorknob and tried to turn it only to find that it was locked.

“Dean! Dean, open the door! C’mon man, don’t do this. Please, Dean. Open the door.”

Sam got no response. He’d have to get in on his own. He kicked it but all that accomplished was extra pain in his injured leg. Sam really wished that he had a gun to shoot the lock off with, but all their weapons were in a duffle bag in the room he currently was locked out of. He checked all of his pockets and found the piece of wire that he’d picked up earlier. It would work. 

After a moment, Sam had successfully picked the lock. He turned the knob and opened the door. And there, standing in the center of the room with the weapons bag opened by his feet, was Dean. Sam was relieved that his brother was still alive, but that relief didn’t last long. Because, while Dean was not dead and his multiple cuts and lacerations didn’t seem too terribly bad, the older hunter was holding a gun with his finger on the trigger. And the barrel of the weapon was pushed into the soft skin under his own chin.

“Dean, put the gun down.”

“Sammy…” Dean’s eyes were pleading with him as one lone tear slipped out.

“Don’t do this, Dean.” Sam didn’t dare step forwards, afraid that any move could lead to Dean killing himself. 

“Sammy, I… I can’t…” 

Dean’s eyes closed and Sam had no time to react as his brother pulled the trigger.


	2. No Reason to Die

Chapter Two: No Reason to Die

Then:  
Amanda Capasso leaned back against her pillows and placed a hand over her swollen belly. Just two weeks to go and she would be a mommy. She was excited and scared all at the same time. She couldn’t wait to welcome her baby boy into this world, to hold him in her arms, but she was afraid that she wouldn’t be able to be the kind of mother that an infant would need. After all, she was only seventeen years old. Still just a child herself. But her mom had promised to help her, and since her mom was the best mom ever, she knew that everything would work out. 

Her life had changed drastically. She’d had to drop out of school since her pregnancy had brought complications and she’d been on bed rest for over a month now. But her mom was going to help her get her GED and enroll in online college courses. It wasn’t the never ending college parties that she had pictured growing up, but with her family’s support, not to mention little Jason being in her life now, her future was bright.

_Future? What future? I’m pregnant and Phil left me. I have no future. My life is over._

Amanda blinked. Where had that come from? The thought had been loud and clear. She remembered screaming those words at her mom all those months ago. She had been devastated and had even contemplated ending her own life before realizing that that action would also kill an unborn child and that wouldn’t be right. So she figured that she could hold on just for the sake of her baby, even though she wanted that escape so badly. 

But that just wasn’t how she felt anymore. She was looking forward to her life now, not trying to find ways to end it.

_There’s nothing to look forward to._ The thought popped in her head just like last time but this was no memory. It was as if a voice in her head was speaking right to her. _You were right back then. Your life is over. Your dreams are shattered and you’ll have nothing left._

“No.” Amanda whispered out loud.

_Yes. But it doesn’t have to be like this. You can still end it all. Heaven will be so different than this life. So much better. And all you have to do is stand on the desk chair, tie one end of the bed sheet around the ceiling fan and the other around your neck. Kick the chair away and swing your way into a better place._

“No.” The girl repeated. But even as she protested, she felt herself getting up and following the voice’s orders. She tried to stop herself. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to die. But her body just wouldn’t listen to her. 

As she prepared to kill herself against her own wishes, her head filled with images from when she had contemplated this very act all those months ago. She saw the pregnancy test that read positive, her argument with Phil that ended with him leaving, and the inside of her bathroom as she had sat on the floor and cried for hours. 

Tears ran down Amanda’s face as she stood on the chair with the sheet tied around her neck.

…  
…supernatural...supernatural...supernatural...supernatural…supernatural…  
…

Dean Winchester opened the door and slipped quietly into the room. He wanted to duck into the meeting without drawing any attention to himself. That plan failed completely as everyone turned to stare at him. The people were all seated in metal folding chairs that had been arranged in a circle. A woman of about forty had been speaking when he’d entered but had quickly ceased. To her right was a young girl about twenty years old wearing a long dark dress and thick glasses. Next to her sat a middle aged man holding the hand of a woman around the same age. A guy around Dean’s age was next, his hair dyed jet black and his face covered in piercings. And finally there was an old man sitting there with his head held in his hands. 

“Uh, hi. Sorry to interrupt…” Dean shifted on his feet awkwardly.

“What are you doing here?” The forty year old woman asked.

“I just…”

The elderly man scowled at Dean as he cut him off. “If you’re another reporter, you can get lost. Now.”

“I’m not.” Dean insisted.

“Then who are you?” The middle aged woman demanded, still clutching the hand of the man sitting besides her like a lifeline.

“Look, I just saw the flyer for this meeting at Taylor’s Diner. I know it’s for the people in this town who’ve lost someone close to them recently due to suicide and I may not be from around here, but… well, my brother, last week he did that and… I just thought maybe…” Dean shrugged. “I can leave though.”

The woman he’d interrupted upon entering smiled sweetly at him. “No, please stay. Grab a chair from over by the wall and join us. Even if you’re not from around here, you look like someone who could use some support.”

Dean returned the smile, grateful that his lie had been convincing. “Thanks.” He replied as he did as he’d been instructed.

“What’s your name, young man?”

“Dean.”

“Well Dean, I’m Bonnie and this is Kelly, Robert, Sandra, Austin, and Ted.” Everyone nodded or smiled at Dean. He gave a little wave back. “Would you like to share a little bit since it’s your first time here?”

“No, that’s alright.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind, just let us know. I was just telling everyone that I got to bring my grandson, Jason, home from the hospital today. My daughter hung herself while she was eight months pregnant but the paramedics got there in time to save the unborn child. He had some troubles at first but has made a full recovery.”

Everyone congratulated her and offered kind words. Dean stayed silent. After Bonnie was done, the guy with the piercings, Austin, spoke up. He talked about how he was still trying to figure out why his girlfriend would’ve committed suicide. She had just gotten a promotion at work and they were planning a trip to Hawaii together. The others told him that he might never fully understand why she did what she did. At that, he got completely pissed.

“This isn’t a case of her having some secret dark crap and just snapping. She was happy. There’s something else going on here. Don’t you see it? Five suicides in one month in this little craphole of a town? Doesn’t that strike anyone as odd?”

“Actually, it’s not so unusual.” Robert, the middle aged guy, spoke up. “Once one person in a town does it, it can create a suggestion in the minds of others that also have problems.”

“You’re full of it, man.”

“No, he’s right.” Sandra defended the man who Dean suspected was her husband. “It’s just a case of suggestive…”

“No it’s not.” Austin all but yelled. “Jackie would never kill herself. And Bonnie, you said it yourself that you thought Amanda was handling things well and wasn’t depressed anymore.”

“People do hide things, Austin.” Bonnie responded, but didn’t look completely convinced of her own words.

“You guys are dense.” He muttered.

“You just can’t accept reality.” The young woman, Kelly, commented.

“Whatever.” He shot back and slumped in his chair.

There was an awkward pause and then Kelly started talking about how her and her mom were doing in the wake of her father’s self-inflicted death.

When the meeting was over, everyone made their way to the table that held a coffee pot and some doughnuts. They talked amongst themselves as they had their snack. Dean helped himself to a crème filled doughnut and a cup of black coffee. He was about to approach Austin when Bonnie walked over to him.

“Hi, Dean.”

“Hey.”

“So, you’re welcome to come back next week. I know it’s not the best therapy, but it helps to have someone to talk with. You look like someone who’s been alone for far too long.”

“Yeah well, I travel a lot.”

“And your brother? Were you two close?”

“Yeah. He’s all the family I have.” Dean realized his mistake. “Had.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. But you know, you shouldn’t drown your sorrows in alcohol.” At Dean’s startled expression, she gave him a knowing smile. “I can smell it on your breath.”

Dean gave her a tight smile and changed the subject. “So, that kid mentioned that your daughter seemed happy?”

“Well, I guess the important word in that sentence is ‘seemed’, but yeah, I thought everything was okay. I mean, she was upset when she first found out that she was pregnant since she was only sixteen at the time. And then her boyfriend demanded that she get an abortion and left her when she refused. She was a wreck. But I really thought that Amanda was over that. She was so excited about having the baby.”

Dean saw Austin getting ready to leave. “Well, I’m glad everything worked out well with your grandson. Maybe I’ll see you again.”

“Goodbye, Dean.” Bonnie called after him as he left the meeting room.

Dean exited the building and saw Austin leaning against the building smoking a cigarette. The hunter walked over to stand next to him.

“So, Austin…”

“I’m not crazy.” 

“Never said you were.”

“Yeah, but you were probably thinking it. They do.”

“Well, I’m different. So tell me, what do you think is happening?”

Austin turned to stare at him. He looked at Dean closely, as if sizing him up and determining if he could be trusted. “I’m not sure. But I was on the phone with Jackie that night. She was saying how she was looking forwards to our vacation and had just bought a new bikini in anticipation for it. Why would she do that if she was planning on jumping from her apartment window later that night?”

“You’re right, that doesn’t make any sense at all.” Dean agreed, pulling out a flask and taking a quick drink of cheap whiskey as Austin lit up another cigarette. “So, did she say anything odd when you were talking to her?”

“No, but she had to go rather quickly. Said the heater must’ve broken ‘cause her apartment got really cold. She was going to call the landlord, but he says she never did.”

“Well, I hope you find some answers.” Dean offered as he replaced his flask in his jacket pocket and pulled out his car keys. 

“Yeah.” Austin gave a little wave as Dean walked over to the Impala and got in.

Dean drove off, dialing his cell phone as he sped down the road.

“Sam, the meeting’s over so you better clear out of there fast. Bonnie’s still chatting but she’ll be heading home soon and would get quite upset to find you rummaging through her daughter’s stuff.”

“I’ve already left, Dean.” His brother informed him. “I’m at the diner now.”

“I’ll be there in a few. Find anything?”

“Yeah, even days later, EMF is still somewhat high.”

“Well, I just got confirmation on cold spots so we better start looking into ghosts.”

“I’m on it.”

“Good boy, Sammy. And order me a cheese burger while you’re waiting. With extra onions. And fries. And don’t forget the pie.”

“I got it, Dean.”

“See you soon.” Dean smiled as he hung up the phone. This looked like just a simple salt and burn case. It would be a relief. After all that’d happened recently, Dean could sure use a break.


	3. Salt and Burn

Chapter Three: Salt and Burn 

Dean slid into the booth across from where Sam sat working on his laptop. He was pleased to see a plate with a cheeseburger and fries sitting on the table, steam still drifting from the delicious smelling meal. A cup of coffee and a plate with a large slice of pie had been placed next to the main course. Dean felt his stomach growl and he licked his lips in anticipation. They’d been on the road all day and hadn’t stopped for food since breakfast and that one doughnut he’d eaten at the meeting just wasn’t enough. Sam had already started in on his salad, so Dean picked up his fork and dug in.

“Pie before your meal, Dean?”

“So?” Dean asked around a mouthful of apples and crust.

“Nothing.” Sam shook his head. “So what did you find out?”

“Well, not a single one of the victims’ families saw it coming. Some admitted that they thought their family members were depressed at one point but that they seemed to be over it. None of the five victims were acting suicidal before they offed themselves.” 

“And you said there was a cold spot?”

“Yeah. The girl that took the swan dive was on the phone with her boyfriend right before hand. She told him she had to go call her landlord because it got so cold she figured her heater was broke.”

“Well, that combined with high EMF is definite sign of a ghost.” Sam concluded.

“Yeah, but what are we looking at? A suicide victim from long ago or maybe victim number one? That dude who ate a bullet. His daughter didn’t think anything was wrong with him, but he was a truck driver and not home much. It’s possible he did it to himself and is now the one responsible for the rest of the deaths.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think so.” Sam replied, scanning something on his computer screen.

“Whatcha got?”

“Well, two years ago a woman purposefully overdosed on prescription meds and left a note encouraging others who were struggling with their problems to do the same. Then, last year around the same time, three others took their own lives.”

“And now there’ve already been five this year. Body count’s escalating.”

“Seems so. Maybe she’s getting more powerful.” Sam suggested. “You think she’s killing them herself or compelling them to take their own lives?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Dean answered. “We dig up her bones, fry the bitch, and then it’ll be over.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Sam agreed as he closed his laptop. “Her name’s Patricia Carlton and she’s buried right in the local cemetery.”

Dean pushed his empty pie plate to the side and picked up his cheeseburger. He took a huge bite and spoke while chewing. “Great. It’ll be completely dark soon and we can finish this up and get some rest before we move out.” He’d already paid for a night at the motel and sleeping there sounded like a much better idea than driving all night after digging up a grave.

“Okay. Once you’re done clogging your arteries we’ll head on over there.”

Dean just rolled his eyes and enjoyed another mouthful of his greasy dinner.

Three hours later Dean was wiping sweat off of his face with his sleeve despite the chilly weather. Digging up graves was not easy work. But he was glad that there were no houses in the vicinity of the cemetery since it meant that they didn’t have to be as worried about being discovered. Dean tossed another shovelful of dirt up and out of the hole. He understood the reasons a body was buried so deep, but nights like this made him wish that graves were a lot shallower. 

Finally, the hunter felt his shovel hit something hard. He grinned up at Sam and they quickly cleared away the rest of the soil. Dean grabbed onto the top of the coffin and pulled with all of his strength. It creaked open to reveal the corpse of the suicidal woman. Dean pulled himself out of the hole to grab the salt and accelerant from his duffle bag. They were right up top so it took him only a moment to retrieve them. He stood and went to drop back down to where Sam was waiting when he felt a cold spot right near him.

Dean turned his head to see a scowling woman flicker into existence right next to him. 

“Sam!” Dean yelled and went to throw the items in his hands down to his brother. But the ghost was fast. She grabbed him by his jacket and threw him away from her open grave. 

Dean hit the ground hard and rolled to his feet, recovering quickly. He saw that he’d dropped both the salt and the fuel near the grave and knew that Sam would take care of the salt and burn. His job now was to distract Casper the unfriendly, suicidal ghost. 

“Seriously, that’s all you got, bitch? I desecrate your grave and dig up your nasty old body and you give me a little love tap? Dude, you really are pathetic. No wonder you killed yourself.”

Okay, maybe he’d gone a little too far because the ghost shrieked and came rushing at him. Dean dove out of the way and grabbed his rock salt filled shotgun. The hunter rolled onto his back and went to aim at the spirit but she was gone. His gaze swept from side to side but all seemed quiet. Dean started to get to his feet, weapon still ready for use, when something pushed him from behind. He fell face first onto the ground, shotgun pressing painfully into his ribs. With a grunt, he tried to turn over but the ghost grabbed his ankle and swung him into a tombstone. That was one strong dead chick. Dean heard the sickening thud of his skull connecting with the stone. The dark sky spun around him and he was afraid for a moment that his cheeseburger and pie were going to revisit him. And diner food was just never as good the second time around. But the dizziness subsided just in time for him to see the ghost straddle him and reach into his jacket. 

“Whoa, honey. Moving a little fast there, don’tcha think? We haven’t even had a proper date yet.”

The dead woman pulled back and Dean saw that she was holding his gun. She aimed it at his head and pulled the trigger. Dean threw himself out of the way and the tombstone exploded as the bullet slammed into it. Pieces of the stone peppered the hunter’s face but since he was still alive he couldn’t complain much. And now it was his turn. Dean raised the shotgun and fired. The rock salt dispersed the spirit and Dean had a moment to breath. He spared a glance over to the open grave and saw that the salt and accelerant were no longer on the ground near the hole. Awesome. That meant that Sam was doing his job. 

Suddenly the woman reappeared and wrapped her ice cold hands around Dean’s throat. He dropped his weapon, since he couldn’t shoot her when she was this close anyway, and tried to pry her fingers from his neck. Just as he began to fear that he’d black out, the spirit let out a scream and burst into flames, disappearing in the blink of an eye. 

Dean let himself fall back to lie on the ground. A moment later, boots came into his line of vision.

“Could you have taken any longer?” Dean rasped out through his sore throat, making no move to stand. He was achy and dizzy and just wanted to rest a minute.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep a girl busy for more than two minutes.” Sam shot back. 

“That bitch tried to blow my brains out.” Dean complained.

“Well, now we know how the other victims died. She must’ve just killed them and made it look like suicide.” Sam grabbed Dean by the arm and pulled him to his feet.

The world spun around yet again and this time Dean lost his fight with nausea. Once he was done throwing up his entire dinner, he let out a groan and stood back up from the tombstone he’d leaned on for support. Well, now he knew that he definitely had a concussion. 

“That’s gross.” Sam commented.

“Hey, I’m the one who had to taste it. And the next time you drag me to my feet while I’m that dizzy, I’ll make sure to aim for your shoes.” Dean threatened.

The two brothers made their way back to the Impala and Dean leaned back in the passenger seat, letting Sam drive so that he could rest his aching head. 

Dean had drifted off to sleep before they’d made it back to the motel. He felt his brother shake him gently to wake him.

“We’re here, Dean.”

“’Kay.” He mumbled back. And promptly closed his eyes to go back to sleep.

The door next to him opened and Sam hauled him out of the Impala and half dragged Dean into the motel room. 

“I may need to put some stitches in the back of your head.” Sam informed him.

"Do it in the morning, Sammy. I won’t bleed to death overnight.”

“Dean.” Sam’s voice held no room for arguing.

After his head was sewn up, Dean took a long drink of whiskey and laid his head down on the soft pillow. He closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Dean woke the next morning to find that Sam had already left the room. With a sigh, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He relieved himself and then took a hot shower, relishing the way the water made him feel more awake and alert. Once he was clean, Dean dried himself off and got dressed. 

When he left the bathroom, he shivered as cold air hit his damp hair and wet skin. With a mumbled curse, Dean closed the window, wondering why Sam had opened it in the first place. He saw a note on the table and picked it up to read. 

‘Dean, couldn’t sleep any longer so I went out for a walk. I’ll bring breakfast back with me. Take it easy with that head injury. –Sam’

Dean tossed his weapons duffle bag onto the table and then sat down. He’d take this opportunity to clean the guns. The hunter pulled the first gun out and stripped it down, cleaning each piece as he went. He was feeling much better than he had the night before. He put the weapon back together and slid the clip in. One down, several to go. Maybe he’d take the rest of the morning to get caught up on cleaning weapons and other tasks that hadn’t gotten done recently due to all the crap that had been going on. It had been nice to have a quick, easy case. It was over now, a spirit was at rest and lives had been saved. Not bad for a day’s work. Life was good.

_-I never should have come back Sam, it wasn't natural. And now look what's come of it. I was dead… and I should've stayed dead. You wanted to know how I was feeling? Well that's it. So tell me… what could you possibly say to make that alright?-_

What the hell? Dean heard the voice, his voice, in his head loud and clear. He even remembered saying those words. But why had that suddenly popped into his head? 

_Because you know it’s true. You should be dead right now. Isn’t that what you want?_

Okay. That sure as hell wasn’t his thoughts. But then why was there a voice in his head telling him that he should be dead… 

_Because you should be dead. And more than that, you want to be dead._

“Like hell I do.” Dean growled, annoyed at the voice and the very fact that there were voices in his head. Was he taking a trip on the crazy train like Sam? Or was it… “You’re the ghost. The freakin’ thing that’s been killing the people in this town.”

_I don’t kill them. They do it themselves. Like you should._

“I salted and burned your bones.”

_Sorry to disappoint you, but you messed this case up. Just like you mess everything up. Isn’t that one of the reasons you knew that it should’ve been you and not your daddy that died?_

“That was a long time ago.”

_Okay, we’ll try something a little more recent._

“What do you…”

_-You can not be in that crater back there. I can’t… if you’re gone, I swear I am going to strap my ‘Beautiful Mind’ brother into the car and I’m going to drive us off the pier. You asked me how I was doing… well, not good.-_

Dean recognized that comment as well. It hadn’t been that long ago and he couldn’t deny the fact that he’d meant every word at the time. But Bobby had survived.

_But he’ll leave you soon enough. Everyone does, and really, can you blame them._

“Shut up!”

_You know I’m right, Dean. So why don’t you leave first. Just pick up that gun that you just cleaned, aim it at your head, and pull the trigger._

“No.”

_What do you have to lose? Your mommy’s been dead for years. You got your daddy killed. Your brother is crazy and probably won’t last much longer before he cracks completely and is gone from your life, locked in an asylum somewhere. Bobby won’t stay around once Sam is gone, he’ll cut you loose. No one is going to want a worthless hunter who couldn’t even protect his baby brother. Lisa and Ben don’t even remember you and isn’t that such a blessing to them. And then there’s Castiel who betrayed you and ruined your friendship, and you can’t even try and fix it because he’s dead and gone. You have nothing left to fight for. Just pick up the gun._

Dean watched his hand grab the weapon and lift it up off the table. He tried to put it back down, but his body just wouldn’t listen. Then he felt the cold metal of the barrel press into his forehead and his finger wrapped around the trigger.

_It’ll all be over soon, Dean._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first quote used by the ghost against Dean is from -Dean, season2 episode4: 'Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things'  
> The second quote is from -Dean, season7 episode2: 'Hello Cruel World'


	4. What You Deserve

Chapter Four: What You Deserve 

Dean fought as hard as he could to force the gun away from his head. This was not how he was going to go out. He wanted to cry out in frustration as his finger tightened even further around the trigger. In just a second he knew he’d be dead. But that was not going to happen… Dean wouldn’t let it happen. Sure his life sucked and the stuff that the voice in his head told him was mostly true, but it was also true that Dean Winchester was not a quitter. And he could never do that to Sam. His brother was barely hanging on to the shreds of sanity he had left and finding Dean dead from a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the head would certainly push the younger man over the edge. If Dean couldn’t put the gun down, he’d have to find another way. 

“You’re right.” Dean agreed, while focusing all of his thoughts away from what he really believed. The voice that was most likely a ghost possessing him was in his head and obviously had access to his thoughts. But Dean was sure he could still outsmart the spirit. “This is the best way. I need all of this pain and crap to just stop.”

_Then pull the trigger. Free yourself from all of this agony that you live in everyday._

The voice sounded pleased and Dean felt the hold on his arm relax slightly. Without another thought, the hunter ejected the clip and smiled in satisfaction as the device hit the edge of the table and then clattered onto the floor. 

_No!_ The voice no longer sounded like himself, but was high pitched and definitely female. In her anger at his actions, she’d revealed her true self.

“Sorry to disappoint you, bitch, but I’m not killing myself.”

Dean felt quite cocky over his victory until an intense pain flashed through his skull. The ghost inside of his body was seriously pissed and was lashing out at him. The hunter had no clue what she was doing, but he felt as though his skull would split open at any moment and the spirit started shrieking wordlessly in his head. He managed to drop his weapon and clutched at his head, eyes tightly shut. Then, through the pain, he felt the temperature of the room drop severely. At that moment the pain eased up and Dean once again opened his eyes. He was shocked at what he saw.

There were three ghosts standing in front of him. One was a teenage boy with a mullet and a bullet hole in his head. The next was a teenage girl wearing skin tight pants and an oversized sweater with the sleeves rolled up to reveal long slices up both arms. And finally there stood an African American teen with a shaved head and a ton of gold chains around his neck that failed to hide the bruises and rope burns. The three of them stared at him with a strange combination of anger and pity.

“You’re not needed here.” Dean heard his own voice say, even though he knew it wasn’t really himself speaking those words. “I have it under control.”

“But we heard you scream out.” The dead chick standing before him responded. 

“I have it under control now. This boy is just in complete denial. I’ll take care of him though.” Having the ghost speak through him was a bizarre sensation, and Dean had had enough of it. With all his strength and will power, the possessed hunter took control of his own voice.

“Like hell you will.” He growled out. 

The three suicidal spirits in front of him seemed surprised. But Dean had no time to celebrate his victory because the pain in his head flared again and then the ghost inside of him seized complete control of his body once more. Dean found that he couldn’t even make his own eyes blink. Son of a bitch!

“Go, I’ll be back soon. I just have to finish helping Mr. Winchester here, first.”

The three spirits nodded, then vanished.

‘I’m not going to shoot myself’ Dean screamed at her in his head.

_You right. Shooting yourself is a far too painless way for you to die. You deserve a much slower and more painful death and you know it._

Dean was flooded with a rapid fire sequence of memories in his head. His father yelling and then glaring at him after the whole striga incident, his father’s rage when Sam had run off to flagstaff, Sam being taken by the Benders because Dean hadn’t been watching out for him, John Winchester lying dead on the hospital floor, himself slaughtering a non-murderous vampire with a power saw just because he was filled with pain and grief, security guard Ron getting shot down during their shape-shifter case when Dean should’ve somehow protected him, Sam getting stabbed in the back and dying, flashes of the horrors he’d committed while in Hell, his verbal and physical fights with Sam over his little brother drinking demon blood and following Ruby, Lucifer being set free, Jo getting attacked by hellhounds and later blowing up because of Dean’s failure, Sam taking the leap into the cage, himself almost hurting Lisa and shoving Ben during his brief time as a vampire and later them almost dying because Dean had dragged them into a world they didn’t belong in, and Cas wading into the water and disappearing because Dean hadn’t been able to help him. 

_You not only would be better off dead, but the world would be better off as well. You deserve to die in agony._

Dean watched as his hand disappeared into the duffle bag. He felt his fingers curl around an object and knew before it had even been extracted that he was in trouble. The hunter saw himself pull a hunting knife from the bag. Then he laid his left arm down on the table while his right hand positioned the knife just inches above his wrist.

‘No, stop.’ Dean cried out in his own head. He tried desperately to halt the progress of the blade as it moved down to his arm but he couldn’t. He even tried to move his left arm away from the approaching weapon, but found that he had no control at all over his body. Dean fought with all he had as the sharp knife pressed into his flesh and blood began to pool up and run down his wrist and onto the table. There was a brief moment of success as he felt himself pull the blade away from his skin but then the ghost pushed it back down. The serrated edge once more bit into him as he continued the deadly game of tug of war with the spirit. Dean knew that he was stubborn and was drawing on that to try and win back control over his own body but this ghost was strong and had obviously done this several times before. The possessed man knew that he couldn’t pull the knife up and away from his skin but maybe he could move it away from his veins. With all of his strength, Dean jerked his right arm back, tearing the skin open further up on his arm. The wound was bleeding heavily but it wouldn’t kill his like an opened vein would have. But that one act of defiance left him exhausted and spent. And when the ghost moved the knife back towards his wrist, Dean had no way to stop her. He had no moves left. It was game over.

“Dean, what the hell?”

Dean’s head snapped up as both he and the ghost jumped in surprise. Neither of them had heard the front door open so Sam’s entrance had gone unnoticed. Dean let out a mental sigh of relief. Sam wouldn’t let him die like this.

“Dean put the knife down.” His brother looked seriously freaked.

Dean wanted to tell him that he couldn’t, but the ghost bitch wouldn’t let him even speak. So instead he concentrated on shooting Sam a look.

Sam obviously got the message and figured things out pretty quickly. “It’s the ghost, isn’t it? Can you fight it?”

Dean attempted to get a message across that he was trying but the spirit was tightening her hold on him. 

“Leave me alone, Sam. Let me do this.” Dean heard his voice say.

“I know that’s not my brother talking. Let him go.”

Dean kept trying to wrestle back control over his body but it looked like it would be up to Sam to save him. He hoped that his brother had a good plan.

…  
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…  
…

Sam wished that he had some kind of plan to save his brother as he stood and stared at Dean. The older hunter was sitting at the table with a serrated hunting knife hovering just over his wrist as blood poured down his arm.

When he’d first entered the motel room, he’d been so shocked at what he was seeing that he’d completely forgotten about the job they’d thought that they’d completed the previous night. But his brother’s look of fearful determination and relief at seeing Sam was not what one would see on the face of someone trying to end their own life. And then Sam remembered the ghost and how she had killed all those people. Dean said he’d seen her erupt into flames but either he’d been tricked or there was more than one ghost. Either way, he had to stop Dean from unwillingly committing suicide. 

One look at his older brother’s trembling hands told Sam that Dean was fighting the spirit but not able to win. Sam had to get the ghost out of him quickly. A glance to his right gave Sam an idea. Dean would probably be pissed but at least he’d still be alive to get pissed off. 

The younger Winchester took a step to the left and then grabbed the shotgun that Dean had carried the night before. He aimed it at his brother.

“What are you going to do with that? Kill him before he can kill himself?” While the voice belonged to Dean, it sounded nothing like his brother. The tone was completely wrong, as was the sneer on his face.

“Something like that.” Sam responded and pulled the trigger.

The rock salt flew from the barrel and hit Dean right in the chest. The hunter fell backwards, chair and all, and landed hard on his back. Sam grimaced as his brother’s injured head connected with the floor. There was a screeching sound as a ghostly blur flew from Dean’s body and right through the closed window. Sam ran over to the window and saw that the salt had somehow been removed from the sill. He really wanted to run to his brother’s side, but knew he had to protect them first. Sam quickly replaced the salt line and then hurried over to Dean. 

The injured young man had rolled onto his side and was gasping for breath, which made Sam feel bad about shooting him. The rock salt had probably bruised his ribs and was making it painful for him to breathe. But at least he was still alive. Sam snatched up his brother’s left arm and looked at the wound. It was still bleeding but not bad enough to be lethal. Sam put Dean’s right hand on the cut.

“Keep pressure on that, Dean. I’ll go get the first aid kit.”

Dean nodded and Sam stood up and ran to get the supplies. Returning with the kit, he wiped away the blood and cleaned the wound, hearing Dean hiss in pain at the action. Next Sam used butterfly bandages to hold the skin shut, and then wrapped the arm up with gauze. As he worked, Dean seemed to recover from being shot.

“Quick thinking there, Sammy.”

“Thanks.”

“But next time think of a way that won’t end with me getting shot.”

“Sorry, but we were out of time.”

“Speaking of time, you arrived at good one.”

Sam looked at his older brother who was looking shaken. “What happened, Dean?”

“Crazy ghost bitch possessed me and tried to get me to slit my wrist. And that was only after she tried to get me to shoot myself in the head.”

Sam felt himself pale. He had had no clue that Dean had gone through all of that or that Sam himself had come so close to losing his brother. He didn’t know what he’d do without Dean. “How did you stop yourself from going through with it?”

Dean shrugged. “Fought her as hard as I could.”

“Was it Patricia Carlton?”

“No way. We burned her bones and I saw her get toasted.”

“So it’s a second suicidal ghost?” Sam asked incredulously.

“And a third, fourth, and fifth.”

“What?”

“At one point three more ghostly suicide victims popped in here for a visit. They were all teenagers. I think the one possessing me was too. I just got that feeling.”

“But they don’t fit in with the victims that I read about.”

Dean got to his feet, still a little shaky. “Then we missed something.”

Sam was furious with himself. He thought that he’d found the answer and that they’d finished up the job quickly, but in reality he’d screwed up the research and Dean had almost died. He took a deep breath to calm himself. It wasn’t the first time they’d overlooked something. Now they needed to figure out what that something was.

“Back to the computer, huh?” Sam commented.

“You get on that and I’m going to call up Bobby to see if he knows of a way to protect ourselves from ghost possession so that this doesn’t happen again.”

“Okay.” Sam agreed. “I’ll pull up all records of teen suicides in the area. Do you think they knew each other when they were alive? Like, was this a mass suicide?”

“No clue. I had other things on my mind than finding out whether they were in the Mickey Mouse Club together.”

“So you have nothing that could help?”

Dean seemed to think for a moment. “They died in the eighties.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Well unless the clothes and hairstyles of the nineteen-eighties suddenly became retro the day the offed themselves, I’m pretty damned sure that’s when they bit it.”

“Well, that’s a place to start.” Sam watched Dean pull out his cell phone and dial it before he turned his attention to cleaning up the first aid supplies. Once that was done he’d get on the computer and this time he wouldn’t stop researching until they had all the answers.


	5. Preparations, Research, and Dark Thoughts

Chapter Five: Preparations, Research, and Dark Thoughts 

Dean took another drink from his flask as he listened to Bobby and wrote down the ingredients that he’d need. Bobby had informed him that there were objects similar to protective hex bags that could prevent ghosts from possessing them and Dean was anxious to get them made. He did not want to go through that ever again. Not being in control of his body had sucked but the worst part was the fact that his memories and emotions were like an open book to the spirit. Even now, all the crap that she’d dredged up was haunting him. He saw all his many failures every time he closed his eyes and the words of hopelessness played over and over in his mind like a broken record. That ghost bitch was going to die… again. And this time it would be by Dean’s hand instead of her own.

“You paying attention, boy?”

“Yeah Bobby, I wrote down everything you told me.”

“Good. So how you doin’?” 

“Fine.”

“Dean, you almost killed yerself. I doubt you’re fine.”

“Okay, maybe I’m a little sore. My freakin’ arm was sliced open, you know. And then there’s the bruised ribs and aching head… but I’ll live.” Dean sure as hell wasn’t going to admit to Bobby about the memories and emotions the ghost had used against him. As far as the older hunter knew, Dean had just lost control over his body. He had a feeling that Bobby suspected something more had occurred, but neither of them had voiced it and Dean liked it that way. He couldn’t admit his weakness to Bobby, especially not with Sam sitting only a few feet away and well within earshot.

“Just be careful. She’s probably not gonna forget ‘bout ya.”

“And that’s why we need the protection.” Dean responded. “Thanks again, Bobby.”

“No problem. Be careful, Dean.”

“Yep.” Dean hung up the phone and then turned to Sam. “We’re gonna have to go out to find some of these ingredients. Most are probably in those health food stores you love so much.”

“Do you even know what health food is, Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s that inedible crap you’re always munching. Anyway, I’m gonna go get this stuff while you finish up the research.”

“No way, Dean. I’m not letting you out of my sight. It’ll be safer if we go together.”

Dean thought it over for a moment and realized that Sam was right. “Fine, but I’m driving.” 

Sam looked as though he’d argue but then he just nodded.

“So, did you find anything yet?” 

Sam shook his head. “No. There’s nothing about a mass suicide of teenagers in the eighties anywhere near this town. I’ll have to check and see if there’s anything about individual teen suicides around here when we get back. Maybe they all met up after their deaths.”

“Maybe.” Dean shrugged. He finished off his whiskey as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He’d already taken some of his prescription medicines for the physical pain he was in and was hoping to dull the rest with the drink.

As they drove to the store, Dean could feel the looks that Sam kept shooting his way. At first he tried to ignore it, as that was the Dean Winchester preferred method of dealing with issues. But after a while the constant gazing was seriously getting to him.

“Take a picture, Sammy. It’ll last longer.”

“What?”

“You’re staring at me. I know I’m devastatingly handsome and all, but…”

“I’m worried about you, Dean.” 

“I’m fine. You shot me and saved my life, and isn’t that a weird statement. But I’m not dead or possessed so you don’t have to worry.”

“Well, it’s just… you said it yourself that some of the other victims that the ghost killed had been depressed at one point or another. And now it chose you. Does that mean that you’ve thought about killing yourself before?”

Dean groaned. “Yeah, in moments like this; when my little brother wants the share and care.”

“I’m serious, Dean.”

“Do we really have to do this?”

“Just tell me if you’ve ever considered suicide.”

“Dude, look at our lives! Of course it’s crossed my mind before. But I’m not dead and I was fighting to stay alive, so you don’t have to worry about me doing anything that stupid, okay?”

“Yeah, okay” Sam sounded reluctant to end the conversation but thankfully didn’t press any further.

When they reached the store, the brothers got out of the car and walked across the parking lot as they entered, Dean made a show of shuddering as he looked at all of the healthy and organic foods.

“Stop it, Dean. This stuff’s good for you. Helps keep the body healthy and can extend a person’s life.”

“Why would you want to live a long life if you had to eat this crap all the time?” Dean muttered. “Hey Sammy, you know what we were talking about in the car?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, if you make me eat any of this stuff I swear I’ll do more than just think about it.” Dean threatened.

He was rewarded with a laugh. “You know, only you can make a joke out of something as serious as suicide.” Sam whispered.

“I’m just that awesome.”

The Winchesters went up and down the aisles, filling their basket with the items they’d need. Dean wanted to get the shopping done quickly so that they could get the protection bags made. He’d feel a lot better knowing that the suicidal ghost chick wouldn’t be riding him again. 

They found everything but some kind of root extract that they were told could be found in most drug stores. Sam thanked the cashier and paid for their supplies. After a quick trip to the closest pharmacy, and a side trip to a nearby liquor store for Dean, they were on their way back to the motel. When they got there, they both entered the room quickly and checked all the salt lines. Dean was still angry at himself for not realizing that the mysteriously opened window had destroyed the salt barrier earlier and allowed the ghost in. Just because he’d thought the job was over was no excuse for him to have been that sloppy.

As Dean sat down to put together the protection bags, Sam returned to his laptop to continue his research. The older hunter followed Bobby’s instructions to the letter. It took him a while but finally he tied off both tiny bags and wrapped a long piece of cord around each. Then he hung one around his neck and did the same to his little brother with the second one. Now they were both safe.

“Thanks Dean.” Sam commented as he continued to stare at the screen.

“Find anything?”

“No. There were only two teen suicides in this town in the eighties. One in eighty-two and one in eighty-nine. The first was a fifteen year old girl. The second a nineteen year old boy. Do you recognize them?”

Sam turned the screen so that Dean could see the pictures. There was an African American girl with braids and a tough looking boy with a mohawk.

“No. They weren’t any of the teenagers I saw. All three looked to be about seventeen or so.”

“Then I can’t find them. Are you certain about the ages and when they died?”

“Yes.” Dean practically yelled in frustration. Then he stopped and thought for a moment. “Sam, what if they didn’t kill themselves in their houses. They could’ve all gotten together somewhere and done it. And maybe their bodies were never found.”

“They could be listed as runaways!” Sam exclaimed. Then he frowned. “That’ll be harder to track down.” 

“Well then, you better get started.”

“Gee, thanks for the offer to help.”

“Hey, I did my part.” Dean insisted, gesturing to the protection he now wore. 

In truth he was feeling like crap and really just wanted to lie down. His arm was still in pain, his head was throbbing, his ribs ached, and fighting the spirit had left him physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. Dean flopped back onto his bed and closed his eyes. He was fast asleep and dreaming about all his life’s failures within moments.

…  
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…  
…

Donny Galloway walked down the hall that led to his best friend’s apartment. He was feeling a little upset because Jerry had never called him back and was now ignoring his phone calls and texts. He knew that his friend was very busy and had probably just forgotten, but that didn’t make it any easier for him. Donny knew that he had serious abandonment issues, his therapist had told him this on several occasions, and he always freaked out when he got ignored. He was certain that Jerry had made a new friend and now didn’t want to hang out with him any more. After all, who would want to spend time with a mental case like him?

Donny shook his head. He was letting his poor self-esteem get the better of him again. He and Jerry had been friends for twenty-one years and his buddy would never ditch him.

When he reached the door, he pulled out a key that his friend had given him and let himself in. They never bothered to knock anymore. 

“Hey Jerry, I was just in the area and wanted to stop on by.” Silence was his only response. “You here, man?” Nothing. 

Then Donny remembered that it was Thursday and Thursdays were one of the days that his friend went to the gym. A quick glance at the clock told him that he’d only have to wait half an hour or so. That is if Jerry wasn’t off hanging out with a new best friend…

Donny sighed and sat down on his friend’s couch. He was worrying more than usual. He was certain he’d taken his medication this morning, but it was possible that he’d forgotten. That was usually what caused his bad days. 

After about an hour and a half of waiting, Donny was ready to give up. Jerry would’ve been here by now if he was planning on coming straight home. But he’d obviously stopped somewhere and Donny had no clue when his friend would show up. 

Feeling depressed, Donny got up off the couch and started to leave. But then he decided that he’d better use the bathroom if he was going to make the forty-five minute walk home. He trudged through the living room, past the closed bedroom door, and over to the bathroom. He swung the door open and froze.

He’d found Jerry. His best friend lay on the bathroom floor staring up at him with unseeing eyes. Blood was splattered all over the tile and was soaked into the man’s clothes. A razor blade was lying on the floor just inches from a hand that was already frozen in rigor. And both of Jerry’s wrists were slashed all the way to the bone.

Donny let out a strangled cry of horror as he backed away and then ran from the room to call the police.


	6. Those Who Have Nothing to Live For

Chapter Six: Those Who Have Nothing to Live For 

Sam sat on the slightly lumpy motel bed, trying to find any information on his computer that might help him figure out who the ghosts that attacked his brother were. Dean had had a good idea with looking into teen disappearances but that wasn’t so easy to find. Especially if they were almost adults or in college since then they might not have been reported as missing. Or they could’ve been reported months later making it impossible to find all four teens. Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He needed a break.

The younger Winchester placed his laptop down and stretched out his back and arms. Sitting hunched over for hours was not comfortable and now he was feeling achy. But he knew he still had to be feeling worlds better than his brother.

Sam looked over at the other bed. Dean was still asleep but was shifting around and sometimes making low distressed noises. He was having a nightmare. But really, after being possessed and almost committing suicide, who wouldn’t have a bit of a rough time sleeping? Sam was debating whether or not to wake Dean up, when the older Winchester’s eyes shot open and he sat up with a gasp. Sam looked away and pretended not to notice, giving his brother time to compose himself.

“How long was I out?”

“Just a couple of hours.” 

“Did you find anything?”

“No. Well, maybe.”

Dean got up and walked over to Sam’s bed. He sat down next to the taller man and looked at the laptop that was lying on the mattress. 

“Whatcha got?”

Sam picked the computer up and placed it on his lap. His fingers flew over the keys as he brought back up the page he’d found earlier.

“I didn’t find four teens that all went missing at once. But I did find two that vanished around the same time. Seventeen year old Selena Johnson was reported missing after she didn’t come home for two days. Her parents said that she was severely depressed and they were afraid that she’d run off to escape working in their family-owned bakery. She had refused to go to college after her high school graduation, so they had forced her to get a job there and she disappeared not long after. She was never found. The second was Clifford Martin, also seventeen. He lost a college football scholarship due to a knee injury. He told his parents he wanted to travel for the summer to clear his head, but he was never heard from again.”

Sam turned the computer so that Dean could see the photos. His brother’s eyes widened.

“Dude, that’s one of them.” He pointed to the African-American teen with the shaved head. “He hung himself, if the bruises on his neck have anything to say about it.”

“What about her?” Sam gestured to the picture of Selena.

“Don’t recognize her.” 

“Oh.” Sam clicked on a picture of her with her family. 

“Wait! That guy. Sam, he was one of them.” Dean indicated to a young man standing next to Selena.

Sam read the label under the photo. “That’s her then-eighteen year old brother, Corey.”

“Yeah, mullet boy shot himself in the head. And the chick that possessed me may have been his little sis because she wasn’t the dead girl I saw.”

“Makes sense.” Sam commented as he went through more pictures. Then he grinned. “We have a connection! Corey was never reported as missing because he disowned his family a few months after he turned eighteen. And look. He played football in high school and guess who was on his team?”

“Mr. Hangman Cliff Martin himself.” Dean answered. “So we identified three out of the four. And I bet the other girl is connected to them somehow.”

“Maybe a friend of Selena’s or something.” Sam suggested. 

“Maybe. The real question though, is where their remains would be.”

“They’re not buried in the cemetery so they must still be wherever they killed themselves.”

“And that would be…”

Sam shrugged. “Not a clue.”

“Well, I can’t think on an empty stomach, Sammy. So, what say we head over to the diner and grab a bite to eat, huh?”

“Sounds good.” Sam agreed. Truthfully, he wasn’t hungry but he knew that Dean wanted to go and he didn’t want him going out alone. Sure they had the protection bags now but they weren’t yet tested and certainly weren’t foolproof. And Sam couldn’t stand to think of losing Dean right now. With everything going on, he needed his older brother. He’d just have to go to the diner and make sure that nothing happened to Dean.

…  
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…  
…

Dean popped an onion ring into his mouth, chewed the delicious piece of fried food and swallowed. He tugged at his jacket sleeve to make sure that his bandaged wrist was covered up. In a town plagued by people killing themselves, the last thing he wanted was for someone to see his injury and assume it was from a suicide attempt. Even though that was kind of the truth. 

The hunter reached for another onion ring as Sam pushed his salad around on his own plate.

“You know, Sammy, if you’d order something edible for a change then maybe you’d actually want to eat your food.”

“Just not hungry.”

“I can see that.” In truth, Dean wasn’t that hungry himself. He’d just really wanted to get out of that motel room. He was a little disconcerted about the fact that he’d almost killed himself there. He wasn’t too thrilled about the prospect of sleeping there that night but he couldn’t tell Sam that he wanted to get a new room. His little brother would ask why and there was no way that Dean would admit his fears and weakness to Sam. He was disrupted from his thoughts by a somewhat familiar voice.

“Dean?”

Dean looked up to see Bonnie standing by his table. He recognized her from the support group meeting instantly and tugged his jacket sleeve down even further.

“Hi, Bonnie.”

“It’s good to see you. How are you doing?”

“I’m coping.” He could see Sam watching the exchange curiously. “And you.”

“The same. Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is Sam.”

“Hi, Sam. I’m Bonnie. Your friend and I met at the support group last evening. I’m glad to see that he has someone to help him during this time. Losing his brother must be very hard on him and I’m sure you’re doing all you can to ease him through this.” She lowered her voice but not enough for Dean to miss her next comment. “Dean also needs to stop using alcohol to numb the pain.”

Sam blinked. “His brother? Yeah, him and Dean were close. He was a great guy.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah, but a bit of a whiny bitch at points.”

Bonnie laughed. “I can tell that you loved him very much. And if you want, we are having another meeting tomorrow night. You really should stop by.”

“Tomorrow?” Dean asked. “I thought it was next week.”

“This is a bit of an emergency meeting.” Bonnie explained. “My sister’s friend’s nephew just found his best friend dead from suicide. And poor Donny had enough problems even before this. I just don’t know how he’s going to cope.”

“What’s Donny’s last name?”

The woman eyed him suspiciously. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’d like to send him a condolence card.” Dean explained.

“Oh, how incredibly thoughtful of you.” Bonnie patted Dean’s shoulder. Then she took a note pad and pen out of her purse. When she was done writing, she tore the page out and handed it to Dean. “Here’s his full name and address. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it. Well, I have to be going but I hope to see you tomorrow evening. Have a lovely night.”

Dean watched her go to the counter and pick up a bag of food. She paid the clerk and left the diner.

“Your brother’s dead, huh?” Sam questioned.

“Yeah, he killed himself when he realized that he’ll never be as awesome as I am.”

“Yeah, sure. He probably did it just to get away from you.”

Dean swallowed and looked away. He knew that Sam was joking but he couldn’t help but think that everyone he loved did seem to try and get away from him. There was no one in his life that hadn’t abandoned him at some point. And what did that say about him? Dean pushed the dark thoughts from his head. After all, they were probably just an after effect from being possessed by a suicidal spirit.

“So, I think we should go talk with Donny and see if he noticed anything.”

“You mean besides his dead friend?” 

“Let’s go.” Dean stood and tossed down some money to pay for their barely eaten meal. Then they left the diner.

An hour later they were sitting on a couch in Donny Galloway’s apartment, talking with the semi-neurotic young man.

“I just don’t get why he did it. He’d had a great outlook on life. Everyone loved him. I just don’t get it.” Donny shook his head in despair. 

“Jerry showed no signs of depression?” Sam inquired.

“No.”

“Never mentioned wanting to end his own life or anything?” Dean questioned.

“No. I mean not recently.”

“So he did at some point?” Sam leaned forward with a sympathetic look on his face.

“Well, two years ago he got some blood work done for some athletic thing he was doing and it came back HIV positive. Jerry freaked. He kept saying that he’d rather end his own life than waste away from a disease. But then he got some follow up tests done and they showed that he was clean. Turned out his first results got mixed up with someone else’s and he’d never been infected at all.”

“And no suicidal thoughts since then?”

“No. He loved life.” Donny wiped away some tears from his eyes and got up. “I’m going to get a beer. You guys want any?”

“No thanks.” Sam replied.

“Sure.” Dean responded at the same time.

When Donny went into the kitchen, Dean lowered his voice to a whisper. “Dude, what the hell? The guy didn’t really want bite it. It was a misunderstanding from years ago. Why target him?”

“These ghosts don’t seem to care. It looks like any suicidal thoughts are an open invitation to them.” Sam gave Dean a concerned look that the older man ignored.

“Guess so.” 

They were interrupted when Donny reentered the room. 

“Thanks for the drink.” Dean commented as he looked up. But Donny wasn’t holding two cold bottles of beer like the hunter had been expecting. Instead, he held a large kitchen knife.

“Don’t you think you’ve drank away enough of your pathetic life, Dean?”

The brothers jumped to their feet. 

“Donny, put the knife down.” Sam instructed.

“I really don’t want to.” Donny responded.

“You’re not Donny.” Dean pointed out.

“Not completely. But you should know that the thoughts and the desire to end his life are real enough. You remember how it feels, right Dean.”

“Shut up. I didn’t want to kill myself, neither did Jerry, and I doubt Donny really wants to either.”

“Your brother is the only reason you fight. You don’t really want to live. I know the truth about you, Dean. Just like I know that Jerry was Donny’s only friend and now he doesn’t want to live either.”

Dean took a step towards Donny and the other man brought the knife to his own wrist.

“You remember how it felt to have the blade bite into your skin and you life begin to flow away, don’t you Dean? Now Donny will get to experience it too. And then it’ll be time to finish what you and I started earlier.”


	7. How to Save a Life

Chapter Seven: How to Save a Life

Dean tensed as Donny brought the knife down to rest on the skin of his wrist. In just seconds the young man would be bleeding out all over the floor. Or he would if Dean Winchester wasn’t around to stop it. 

Dean lunged forwards and knocked the man back into the kitchen and down onto the linoleum. The hunter landed on top and wrestled with hand holding the knife. But Donny was possessed, which amplified his strength and Dean knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up the fight much longer.

“Sam, the kitchen! Get some salt!”

Dean tried to keep Donny pinned down but the man got his arm free and slashed the knife at the hunter. Dean jerked backwards and the blade missed him completely. Then he grabbed the knife hand with both of his and slammed it repeatedly onto the ground. He got the desired reaction as the weapon was released and skittered across the floor. 

“You still haven’t won, Dean. And you never will.”

“Keep bragging, but you’re the one who’s gonna get your ass kicked.”

“Tough talk, Winchester. But that’s all you are, isn’t it? All talk.”

Just then Sam dropped down to his knees next to the struggling men and pressed an open container of salt into Dean’s hand.

“Try talking with a mouthful of this, you bitch.” Dean growled as he poured the salt into the man’s open mouth.

Donny choked, coughed, and gasped. Then a high pitched inhuman shriek rang out as the spirit was ejected from the man’s body. Donny shook violently and curled up into a little ball on the floor. Dean stood and sprinkled a ring of salt around the man before turning to face the ghost that had just taken shape.

It was definitely the spirit of Selena Johnson. But the girl’s face was deathly pale, her long black hair was wet, her clothes were soaked and caked with mud, and water dripped to the floor only to seemingly vanish. She glared at Dean and he was very glad that looks couldn’t kill.

“You think this’ll stop me?”

“I think it’s a good first step.” 

“Think again.” Selena’s ghost came flying at him, obviously meaning to once again possess the hunter. 

Dean didn’t even blink as the spirit crashed into an invisible force about half a centimeter from his body. She was flung backwards, almost across the entire room.

“No! How?”

“It’s called performance anxiety, babe. Happens to everyone. Well, you know, except me.” Dean responded with a smirk and a wink.

“You’re protected.”

“And you’re not getting in.”

With one last glare, the spirit disappeared. 

Dean and Sam turned their attention to Donny, who was now sitting up and staring in shock at the brothers.

“What… what was that? What happened to me?”

“You were possessed by a suicidal dead chick.” Dean explained. “She’s the reason all those people have been killing themselves.”

“Is… is she going to come back for me?”

“Probably, but your safe in the circle of salt.” Sam replied.

“But I can’t stay in here. And… and I don’t want her to come back. I don’t want to die.”

“Good to know.” Dean looked around the apartment. “We can put salt around the windows and doors to keep her away.”

“That’s not going to stop her if she really wants in.” Sam whispered. “She got past our defenses in the motel.”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“I can give him my protection bag.” Dean started to protest and Sam raised his hand to cut him off. “We have the supplies to make more back in our room.”

“And what about the trip back?”

“She was in the room with me and didn’t even look my way. I think it’s obvious who she’s after.”

“Yeah well, chicks always prefer me. No surprise there.” Dean sighed. “Fine, but I’m making you a new one as soon as we get back.”

“Good.” Sam took off the protection bag and put it around Donny’s neck. “This is what stopped the ghost from possessing my brother. It will protect you until we take care of her. Just don’t take it off until we call you and say it’s okay.”

“Yeah sure. Thanks.” Donny was obviously still in shock, but the brothers had no time to stay and help him through it. Sam needed to get protection as soon as possible, just in case. Besides, Selena was upping her body count rapidly and Dean wanted to end her before she chose her next victim. 

Back at the motel, Dean was putting the finishing touches on the new protection bag when Sam spoke up in an excited tone.

“I think I’ve identified the last ghost.”

“Yeah, who is it? The ghost of Christmas past, present, or future?”

“Funny. No, her name is Darla Williamson. She was Selena’s best friend.”

“How did we miss her before? And how did the police not pick up on two best friends disappearing at the same time?”

“Because she went missing two years later. She was sixteen at the time that Selena disappeared. She finished up high school and went off to college. But in her freshman year, she suddenly missed all her classes and they never tracked her down.” 

Dean went to sit next to Sam, handing his little brother the completed protection bag as he got there. Then he turned his attention to the screen.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Dean confirmed.

“Okay, so Selena, her older brother, and his friend all kill themselves one summer somewhere where their bodies are never discovered. Two years later, Selena’s best friend does the same. You think she knew what happened and finally decided to join her?”

“Or maybe Darla was Selena’s first victim.” Dean suggested.

“Maybe… but then why hang around with her now?”

“’Cause she’s obviously stuck here and maybe doesn’t want to be alone.”

“Maybe. Do you think Patricia Carlton was one of her victims too?” Sam asked.

“That woman we salt and burned?” Dean shrugged. “Probably. But it’s doubtful that she was involved in anything besides trying to stop us from ganking her.”

“Okay, so we have all the players but we still need to find their bodies if we want to stop them. Selena seems to be the ring leader so maybe burning her will stop the others as well.”

“It’s possible.” Dean replied. “But even if she’s the one killing everyone, the others showed up here when they thought there was a problem. I doubt they’ll just stand around with their thumbs up their asses and let us torch Selena.”

“Well, we need to find her remains before we can even worry about that.” Sam pointed out.

“Yeah. Well, let’s think about it. Where could they go to off themselves that they wouldn’t be discovered?”

“Well, maybe how they died could give us a clue. What exactly did you see?”

Dean thought about it. “Well, Darla had slit her wrists, Cliff hung himself, and Corey shot himself in the head. The first two could’ve done it anywhere but a gunshot would’ve been heard if it was close to other houses.”

“So, some place remote.” Sam concluded.

“And near water.” Dean added. “Selena drowned herself and if the mud she was wearing is any indication, it didn’t happen in a bathtub.”

“That should narrow it down.” Sam declared.

Dean watched as he pulled up a map of the town. The older Winchester got up and walked over to their refrigerator to grab a beer. He really needed a drink. He was both surprised and pleased that Sam had yet to bring up any of the things that the spirit had brought up during their confrontation. If his brother did ask about it, Dean would just blow it off as a mind game that Selena was playing. But it didn’t look like he’d need to use that excuse. A glance over at Sam pressing on his left palm proved that he had more important things to deal with than his big brother’s state of mind.

“Check this out, Dean.”

Dean took a long gulp of his drink and sat back down next to Sam. “What’s up?”

“There’s a river that runs right near the town’s eastern border. And there are a few houses scattered in the woods right next to it. Most are abandoned.”

“So what, we gotta check them all?”

“I should be able to narrow it down. First, we can eliminate any houses that were occupied at the time of the suicides. That leaves… two.”

“Hey, Sam. Didn’t the recent suicides start two years ago with Patricia?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Look here.” Dean pointed at an article that had been brought up with the information about one of the houses. “Two years ago, shortly before that woman offed herself, the expanding river caused erosion that washed a section of the house away. It says that the place was abandoned in the early eighties but never sold. It’s just been sitting there all these years. Apparently the original owner that designed and built the place was later sent to the funny farm and the residents avoid the place like the plague even though it is supposedly mansion-like. Figures that the place we need to search would be the largest house of all of them.”

“But that does make sense.” Sam nodded. “The disturbance is probably what set them off.”

“Well, let’s pack up what we’ll need and go.” 

“We need to take precautions, Dean.”

“We have the protection bags.”

“And that might not be enough.”

“Well, what do you want to do, Sam? Just sit here and wish the ghosts away?”

Sam sighed. “No, but maybe we should leave the weapons somewhere that we can get to if they’re needed but avoid carrying them in case either of us get possessed.”

“Fine.”

“And we’re sticking together.”

“Okay, we’ll ditch the weapons and hold hands. Happy now?”

“No, I still feel uneasy about this…”

“We go in, find the bodies, salt and burn the crap outta them and go home victorious. And yeah, I’m sure the ghosts’ll pop up, so we bring lots of salt. Don’t worry, Sam. I don’t plan on getting possessed again.”

“So you’re saying you did plan on it the first time?” Sam inquired.

“Dude, you’re such a bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Dean smiled, glad that he’d seemed to put Sam at ease. But despite his confident words, the older hunter was nervous. He too had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be an easy job. He just prayed that they both made it through this alive.


	8. Final Resting Place

Chapter Eight: Final Resting Place 

Dean pulled up in front of the huge mansion-style home. This house was about as far from civilization as one could get in this town. They’d had to drive down a winding dirt road and then an extremely long, unpaved hidden driveway to get there. But now they’d arrived and Dean was more than ready to go in and end this. 

The brothers got out of the Impala and walked around to the trunk. Dean grabbed the weapons bag and a shotgun loaded with salt rounds. Sam grabbed another shotgun and they headed off towards the front door. When they got there, Dean grabbed the doorknob but it didn’t turn. 

“Locked.” Dean commented. Then he brought up his foot and kicked the door. Dean stumbled back but the heavy wooden door didn’t budge. “Son of a bitch!”

Dean got ready to try again, but Sam put a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s try another method.” 

Dean watched as his younger brother walked over to a pile of junk sitting on the front porch and picked up a short piece of broken wire. He walked back over and used it to pick the lock. Dean rolled his eyes as the door swung open.

“Show off.”

Sam pocketed the wire and they entered the house. The foyer was massive. Dean looked up and could see walkways on the next two floors up and a huge chandelier hanging down from the ceiling. Gargantuan windows let in enough light for him to get a clear view of everything. There were passages leading off to the left and right and directly in front of him was a wide staircase that led to a landing where the stairs broke off into two separate directions. One went to the left where it met up with the visible walkway. The right one seemed to lead into the far wall where it disappeared from sight. It was a rather unusual set up but, then again, the designer of the place was certifiably insane so it probably had made sense to him. 

“Where to first?” Sam asked.

“Well, if I was going to off myself in this freaky-ass place, I’d probably go upstairs.”

“Why upstairs?”

“Would you want the last place you see to be some dark, dank basement?”

“No. But then, I wouldn’t come to a place like this and kill myself.”

Dean shrugged. “Me neither, but if I did, I’d do it somewhere with a view.”

“And the rooms facing the east probably had a spectacular view at sunrise, especially since they overlook the river.”

“So we agree to start there?”

Sam nodded. “But we need to drop off the weapons on our way. We can’t risk being forced to use them on ourselves or each other. I still think we should’ve left them in the car.”

“And then we’d be screwed if the ghosts trapped us in this house.”

“I guess.”

The brothers headed up the stairs to the second floor. They took the left staircase and proceeded onto walkway, opening up the doors as they passed. Dean looked down to the first floor and then up.

“You know, I don’t see any way up there.” 

“There’s got to be a secondary stair case somewhere.” Sam responded. “You think they went up there?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“You’re the one who suggested we come up here.”

“And you’re the one who agreed. Anyway, I haven’t seen anything in these rooms and I don’t feel like spending the rest of the day and all night wandering around.”

“I agree that we need a plan, but I can’t think of anything to help us find a direction to go in.”

Dean sighed in frustration as he opened up the next door. But instead of yet another empty bedroom with tacky decorations, he found a rather large library. It was two stories tall with a spiral staircase in the center of the room that led to the upper level. There were thousands of books on the shelves that lined the walls. A fireplace sat against the far wall and several comfortable looking recliners were scattered around the room haphazardly. An incredibly ugly throw rug lay in the middle of nowhere.

“Dude, you think if I pull one of these books out, it’ll reveal a secret passage or something? That would be awesome.”

“Dean, this isn’t a movie and even if there’s some hidden passage, I doubt a group of suicidal teens would bother to find it.”

Dean shrugged and crossed the room to the spiral staircase. He ascended to the third floor and looked around. 

“Hey, I found something!” He called back to his brother. 

Sam hurried up after him. “What?”

Dean pointed at what was left of a female corpse lying close to another elegant fire place. Judging by the condition of the body, it had definitely been here since the eighties. 

“Do you think that’s Selena?” Sam asked.

“No.” Dean replied as he bent down and picked up a razorblade that lay near the corpse’s hand on a patch of carpet that was a rusty-brown color. “It must be Darla. Let’s take care of her and then go find the others. Hopefully they all stayed together because it would suck if we had to hunt down all three of them separately.”

“She killed herself two years after they did. It makes sense that even though she came to the place that they died in, she wouldn’t have done it in the same room. As you pointed out, it’s all about what you see in your final moments. I doubt Darla wanted the last thing she saw to be her decomposing friends.”

Dean used his foot to roll the corpse into the stone fireplace, sprinkled some salt over the body and then pulled out the lighter fluid. He poured some on the long dead teenager. Preparations complete, the hunter pulled out his lighter and lit it.

“What are you doing?” The three ghosts that he’d seen earlier suddenly appeared to his left.

“Putting you to rest.” Dean replied, bracing himself for the upcoming attack. 

The spirit of Darla smiled at him. It was a sweet but sad smile. “Thank you.”

Dean blinked in surprise and turned to glance at Sam. He seemed as shocked as Dean.

“You want to go?” Sam questioned.

“Who would want to stay like this?” Corey’s ghost asked. “We killed ourselves to escape this world.”

“Then why… Selena.” Dean answered his own question. “She’s the only one who wants to be doing this.”

“She’s more powerful than us.” Darla hung her head. “She’ll be back soon. She probably already knows you’re here. And she wants you to join us.” She looked right at Dean as she her last sentence.

“Well, don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart. Goodbye.” Dean dropped the lighter and watched as both the body and the spirit of Darla burned.

“She’s here.” Clifford announced and the two spirits vanished.

“I guess Selena’s back. And I doubt she’ll just stand by as we finish this.” Sam grabbed Dean by the arm and dragged him out the closest door. “And we can’t rely on the other ghosts not to fight us now that she’s returned. They seem to take orders from her.”

“So let’s find her body and have a barbeque.” Dean stated as he pulled his arm out of Sam’s grip and then made his way down a long, dark, narrow hallway. 

There were small skylights to provide illumination, but they were few and far in between. And so far it appeared that there were no doors in this corridor. 

“What the hell? Was this place built by a funhouse designer? If so they left out the fun but piled in the crazy.” Dean commented.

“There has to be more rooms up here. We just need to find a way in.”

“How about a sledge hammer?” Dean suggested.

“Wait, there’s a door right there.” Sam stepped in front of Dean as he opened the door. 

They both walked into a small study. The room was well lit due to the fact that one entire wall was made of glass. Dean walked over to it and looked out. Straight below was the river, rushing by at a fast and powerful rate due to the recent rains. If the soil eroded any further, this section of the house would probably crumble and be washed away. 

A quick check of the room revealed nothing important. As Dean turned to leave, Sam grabbed a hold of his shoulder.

“We should leave the weapons here. If Selena is back and knows what we did, she’ll be coming for us. The guns and knives are too dangerous to have if we get possessed.”

“Fine.” Dean dropped the bag to the floor. 

They left the room with nothing but their flashlights, rock salt filled shotguns, a container of salt and bottle of lighter fluid each, and matches. Dean felt naked without his guns and knives. He knew that they were useless against ghosts, but he never went anywhere without them. You never know what kind of situation may pop up on a hunt.

Further down the hall were a few more large bedrooms and a bathroom that was probably bigger than most of the motel rooms they stayed in, but no more dead bodies. And Dean was beginning to get uneasy about the fact that they had yet to run into any ghostly resistance. So far it had been easy, and things never went easy for the Winchesters.

At the end of the hall was a door that led to a stairwell. Dean and Sam went downstairs, the younger brother holding the flashlight since there were no windows to provide sunlight, while Dean kept his shotgun at the ready. The walls were made from stones and cement in no real pattern. When they reached the bottom, there was no door.

“What the… why would anyone build a staircase to nowhere?” Dean exclaimed.

“To mislead people?”

“But why?”

“Well, the architect was insane, Dean. Maybe there is no reason behind it.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Let’s head back up.”

Sam turned and started back up the stairs, but Dean started running his hands over the cold wall. Then, one of the stones depressed slightly under his palm. Dean pushed it harder and with a loud grinding noise, part of the wall slid away to reveal another hall. Sam ran back down to join him.

“And you scoffed at my hidden passage theory.” Dean teased.

Sam didn’t comment as they continued walking. They checked in every room that they came across, but found nothing. Until they reached one room that was missing the entire back wall. At least a third of the room had broken off and fallen into the river. But, in the portion that remained, was a decapitated body. A glance upwards revealed that the corpse had once hung from a rope suspended from the ceiling, but as it had deteriorated the broken neck bone and rotted flesh had given away, leaving the body in the center of the room and the head near the door. 

“That’s just gross.” Dean pushed the head over to the body with his foot. He listened to the sound of the river rushing by as he salted both parts and covered them with the accelerant. But before he could light a match, a voice broke the almost peaceful nature sounds.

“You don’t really think that I’m going to allow you to do that, now do you?”

Selena had finally made an appearance.


	9. Putting the Dead to Rest

Chapter Nine: Putting the Dead to Rest

“You don’t really think that I’m going to allow you to do that, now do you?”

Dean spun around and came face to face with the spirit of Selena Johnson. She looked enraged as she glared at the Winchesters. She stepped right up until she was only a few inches away from Dean. The top of her head only came up to his chest, but she didn’t seem at all intimidated by the height difference as she looked up at him with a sneer marring her face.

Dean shrugged. “I don’t think you have much choice, bitch. You see, I’m protected from you. Which kind of makes you all talk, no possessing action.”

“Maybe I can’t possess you, but I can still kill you.” She held up her hand and Dean was flung back into the wall.

“Not really your MO, is it?” Dean responded as he stepped back towards her. He was trying to keep her focused on him so that Sam could finish the salt and burn for Clifford. It was the second time during this job that the older brother had had to provide distraction, and he hoped that he fared a bit better this time. Another concussion would just suck. But Sam had been right earlier, Selena was completely ignoring the younger man. Dean was her target.

“I can make an exception.”

“But you really can’t. Ghosts are like that. Not all that open to change. You want me to off myself and you won’t give that up just to punish me for putting one of your friends to rest. Oh wait… make that two of your friends.”

Selena turned just in time to see Clifford Martin’s body go up in flames.

“No!”

She rushed Dean again and he found himself flying across the room and landing on the floor where he slid back a few more feet.

“Dean!” 

The terror in Sam’s voice clued the older hunter in to the fact that there was a problem. A quick glance behind himself revealed that he was merely inches from falling off the broken floor and into the river below. 

“Crap!” Dean rolled away from the edge and stood up. He heard the floor boards under his feet creak and groan and he stood absolutely still, not wanting them to give out under his feet. 

Selena took a step towards him, but then her confident smile faded as she stared into the river below. She looked frightened and backed up again. Then she turned her attention back to Dean.

“I could easily push you into the river and you’ll die as I did. Cold, numb, but with an excruciating burn in lungs that have ceased to work. And it’ll seem to take forever for you to die. And you’ll have plenty of time to think in those agonizing last moments.”

“That’s what happened to you, isn’t it? You thought that you wanted to die until you were in the water. But by then it was too late. You regret killing yourself and you’re filled with anger and hate. That’s why you target people who’ve thought about suicide but never followed through. If you didn’t get a chance to change your mind then why should they?” 

“You know nothing about me!” She shrieked and the floor beneath him creaked further. 

“I know that you’re a coward and a real bitch. And that you’re gonna get your ass shot by rock salt.”

Just then, the sound of a shotgun being fired pierced the air and, with a scream, Selena dispersed.

“Taking your time there, Sammy.”

“I had to get a clear shot without letting her know what I was doing.” Sam defended. “Come on, we have to find the other bodies quickly.”

“Yeah. Before psycho bitch comes back. Chick’s got a major stalker-crush on me.”

“Dean, if she threw herself into the river, there probably isn’t a body here to burn.”

“Yeah, I thought about that. Maybe we have to burn this whole damned place to the ground.”

“You think that’ll work if she didn’t technically die here?”

Dean shrugged. “I’ll let you know if I think of something better.”

Sam picked up an old throw rug that was damp from being exposed to the elements and used it to cover the smoldering remains of Clifford’s body. No use setting fire to the house while they were still inside of it.

As they were leaving the room, Dean put his hand out, effectively stopping his brother. “I think we should split up.”

“No way I’m leaving you, Dean. You said it yourself, Selena is after you.”

“Which is why I can keep her busy while you find Corey’s body and put him to rest.”

“No.”

“Look, we’ll never get it done if she’s gonna pop up and stop us every few minutes. I’ll be safer the sooner this is over with. And look how easy it was for you to do the salt and burn while she concentrated on me.”

“Yeah, but we were in the same room. We can do that again.”

“She’s too smart for that, Sam. This is the best way.”

Sam looked uncertain for a moment and then nodded. “Okay, Dean. But be careful. Try to get back to the front entrance and I’ll meet up with you there.”

“Got it.”

Dean took off down the hall, putting as much distance between himself and his brother as he could before the younger man could change his mind. He decided that he’d go back the way they came so that Sam could continue on forward. He hoped this plan worked and that his brother would be safe. Or as safe as a semi-crazy hunter could be in a maze-like house haunted by a vengeful spirit.

He ran back up through the stairwell and then all the way to the library. Dean tried not to look into the fireplace as he walked past it and descended the spiral staircase to the lower level. He exited and found his way to the foyer with no sign of resistance. He was just beginning to worry that the ghost wasn’t going to take the bait when Selena suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Going somewhere?” 

“Was kinda hungry. Thought I’d step out to grab a burger or something. You want me to bring you back some takeout?”

“Oh, you’re a funny one. I’ll enjoy your company when you’re stuck here with me.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Oh, yes it will. Because you are the most unstable, grief-filled, guilt-ridden, self-loathing guy I have ever met.”

“Wow, that’s one hell of a diagnosis, Dr. Dead Chick. Maybe you could’ve been a psychiatrist if you hadn’t offed yourself before you were old enough to start a career.”

Selena sneered at him. “You know nothing.”

“So you’ve said. But I think that you wouldn’t be so pissed if I wasn’t so right.”

Without warning, she flung him backwards into the wall. Dean had barely regained his footing when he saw her rushing right towards him. He aimed his shotgun and prayed that he’d have the time to take the shot.

…  
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…  
…

Sam followed the hall until he reached a set of stairs. He figured that they’d lead him back down to the main floor, but instead it led all the way down to the basement. Sam shone his light around the large room. There were the stairs that he’d come down and then another set on the opposite wall. If his sense of direction hadn’t been completely screwed to hell, those steps would go up to the front of the house. That was where he’d go to meet up with Dean. He hoped that his brother would be there and be alright. 

Sam continued to examine the room. And that’s exactly what the basement was, one large room. It was smaller than the upstairs and somehow hadn’t been damaged by the river. Sam figured that maybe those portions of the house had been added on after the underground level was complete but had no way of confirming that theory. The floor and walls were concrete and the ceiling was wood that looked like it had seen better days. As he scanned the room, he saw crates and boxes and old furniture filling a good part of the room. And an old car that Sam couldn’t imagine how it had gotten down there. And Lucifer standing by the car waving at him… no, Lucifer wasn’t really there. Sam dug his fingers into his palm and the hallucination disappeared. Shaking his head, the hunter turned around and almost jumped in surprise. Right in front of him stood Corey.

“She wants me to stop you while she deals with your brother.”

Sam raised his shotgun at the ghost, balancing the flashlight carefully so that he could shoot and still see what it was that he would be shooting. 

“I thought you wanted to move on.”

“I do. I just don’t dare defy her. She’s strong and her temper is short.”

“She’s just a ghost, same as you. And if you tell me where your body is, I can put you to rest before she even knows what happened.”

Corey seemed torn between his desire to leave this world and his equally strong desire to follow his sister’s orders. 

“If I defy her, she’ll know. And then she’ll come. I’m sorry for this, and I hope that your gun doesn’t hurt too much.” 

That was all the warning Sam got before the spirit ran at him and with a violent shove sent the hunter flying through the air. Sam landed on the hood of the old car and tumbled off the other side. Right onto the decomposing body of Corey Johnson. With a small noise of disgust, Sam scrambled off of the remains and turned to face a smiling ghost. He was certain that the spirit hadn’t thrown him there by accident. But he was going to need time to do the salt and burn. With a tinge of regret, Sam took aim and shot the ghost. As soon as he was gone, the hunter salted the corpse, covered it with lighter fluid, lit a match and dropped it onto the prepared body. He watched it burn for a moment before turning to leave the basement.

Sam was only partway across the large room when he heard a loud thud and some creaking coming from above him. Suddenly the ceiling caved in. Pieces of wood tumbled down right in front of him followed by the body of his older brother. 

“Dean!” Sam cried out as he knelt down next to the unmoving man. Dean’s eyelids fluttered, opened, then closed once more. He let out a low moan which dropped in volume until there was silence. After that, there was no indication that Dean was anywhere close to being conscious. 

More ceiling debris fell about a foot away. Sam was going to have to move his brother quickly. Praying that he did not do any more damage to the older man, Sam picked Dean up under his armpits and dragged him away from the pile. He saw a blood trail being left behind and hoped that whatever injury was causing it wasn’t too serious. 

Once Dean was safe, Sam went back to the small rubble pile to retrieve his shotgun. The sunlight streaming down through the hole in the ceiling that led to the foyer made the flashlight unnecessary but he knew that he needed a weapon since Selena wouldn’t leave Dean alone for long. 

But as he dug through the broken wood, he heard more creaking and a loud snap. Sam looked up just in time to see the large chandelier falling down at him.


	10. The Fight to Stay Alive

Chapter Ten: The Fight to Stay Alive

Dean groaned in pain and opened his eyes. There was dust still settling around him and a murky light filtering in from above. Above? Oh yeah, he’d fallen down through the floor when Selena had attacked. And, from the agony radiating from his back, he guessed that he hadn’t had the easiest of landings. He reached up to double check that his protection bag was still around his neck. He let out a sigh of relief at finding it still intact. Then Dean struggled into a sitting position, gasping as a sharp pain stung his lower back. He ran his hand up the back of his jacket and shirts and felt the warm, stickiness of blood. Then his fingers touched a jagged piece of wood that was buried in his flesh. Luckily, it had entered at an angle, which meant that lying on his back hadn’t forced it further in and cause any internal damage. With a grunt and muffled cry, the hunter pulled it free and felt fresh blood stream down from the wound. He knew that it wasn’t serious enough to be life threatening, but it hurt like a bitch. Just like the other, smaller cuts that peppered his face, arms and legs. _‘Note to self: Falling through a floor sucks.’_

Dean got to his feet and looked around. There were boxes, crates, a car (and just what the hell was _that_ all about?), and a large pile of rubble and debris. And at the bottom of that pile was his younger brother.

“Sam!”

Dean ran to Sam’s side and dropped down to his knees. His unconscious brother was buried in the rubble from his waist down and, judging by the blood slowly creeping down from underneath his hair, had been hit in the head by the piece of a wooden board lying nearby. The older man checked Sam’s pulse first and then his protection bag. Both revealed positive results. The taller man was still alive and still safe from possession. So far, so good. Now Dean just had to get him out from under the heavy-looking debris. 

He started removing the pieces from the top, careful not to disrupt the rest of the pile. Dean was hard at work when Sam made a small, pained noise.

“Sammy? Hey, you with me, man?”

“Dean?” Sam’s reply was weak.

“Yeah. Don’t move, okay? I’m getting you out of here.”

“No, Dean. I don’t think you will.” Came a mocking female voice from behind him.

Dean spun around to face Selena. It was then that he realized that he was unarmed. Unfortunately, the ghost realized it too.

“Not so tough without your salt, huh Dean?”

“Still more than a match for you.” He spat back. It was a bluff and they both knew it.

“No. You’re not.” 

With that, Dean found himself flung backwards. He was starting to get tired of being thrown around by ghosts. As he struggled to his feet, he turned to face Selena.

“That all you got?”

“For you. Sammy on the other hand is going to get quite a bit more.”

Dean felt his heart freeze in his chest as the ghostly bitch reached down and put her hand into Sam’s chest. Apparently, while the bags kept them from being possessed, they were still vulnerable to all kinds of direct attacks from the spirit.

“No!”

“Sorry, but yes.” Selena grinned at him.

Dean wanted to rush her and get her hands off of his little brother, but he had no weapons against her.

“Leave him alone. Your issues are with me, remember?”

“Yes, but you’re protected from me, remember?”

Sam was gasping for air and making pained noises. Dean knew that he didn’t have much more time.

“I’ll take the protection off!” The older Winchester practically shouted the offer, his desperation overriding any concept of his own safety. 

Selena stopped her attack and pulled her hand out of Sam. By the look on her face, Dean suspected he’d just played right into her hands, but really, what else could he do? There was no way he could let her kill his brother.

“You really are good at making deals for Sammy’s life, aren’t you?” She mocked. “But, I accept.” 

“Free Sam first.”

“Not part of the deal.”

“I’m making it part of the deal.” Dean growled.

“You aren’t calling the shots here. But if you really want to forget the bargain…” She reached back down for Sam.

“No!” Dean cried out. Then he tried to compose himself. “No, the deal’s still on.” 

Selena smiled a falsely sweet smile. “Good. Then get to it.”

Dean reached up and grabbed a hold of the cord around his neck. He pulled it up and over his head. He saw Sam’s eyes blink and then focus on him.

“Dean? What are you…”

Dean shook his head to cut the questioning off. “It’s okay, Sam.” He reassured. But he knew that it wasn’t. With no weapons to use against Selena, he would be royally screwed when she took control of him this time. And Sam would know that too. But Dean was out of options.

“Dean, no. Don’t do this.”

“Sorry, Sammy.” Dean threw the protection bag across the room. 

His eyes were still locked with Sam’s and thus he didn’t see Selena’s approach. But he felt a cold chill as she entered him.

This time, he felt the loss of control immediately. He began walking to the basement stairs against his own will. Dean didn’t fight against her though. At least not yet. It would be too dangerous for Sam. Selena obviously wanted to take Dean somewhere and the best course of action was to see where they were going before he started his struggles. It would also give Sam time to get himself free and hopefully show up with some kind of plan. 

Selena walked him up the steps and down a long hall. Soon, he found himself in the foyer once again. He tried to turn his head to see the damage in the floor, but the ghost wouldn’t let him have even that small amount of control. And when he tried, she flooded his head with memories that he’d much rather forget about. Pain, depression, regret, and a million more horrible emotions swept through him and made him almost look forward to the upcoming end of his pathetic life. But no. He wasn’t going to think that way. Dean wasn’t weak enough to give in and do that. He wasn’t.

He found himself making his way upstairs and into the library. Dean felt a stab of anger from Selena as they made their way past the fireplace where the hunter had salted and burned her best friend.

‘Did you force her to kill herself and join you here?’ Dean questioned in his head.

_She is how I discovered that I could influence others to do what they had once wanted to do. She knew when we killed ourselves and was tempted to join us. But she didn’t. Then she had the nerve to come here two years later to say goodbye._

‘And you couldn’t let her go.’

_No, I couldn’t. I missed her and wanted her with me. And now, thanks to you, she’s gone. As are the others. But soon, you’ll be here with me forever._

‘Not gonna happen, bitch.’

Another wave of depressing memories and emotions hit him hard. Dean fought against them and by the time he was once again aware of his surroundings, he found himself on the third floor in the study. And he was staring at the weapons bag.

Now Dean started to struggle against her. The bag was filled with guns and knives and there was no way Dean would live much longer if she got his hands on those. Selena forced him down to his knees and his fingers hovered above the zipper on the duffle. With all he had, Dean pulled his hands back and ended up falling backwards onto his ass. He tried to back away but Selena tightened her hold on him. The hunter fought her but she was way too strong. Dean found himself crawling back to the bag and unzipping it. He watched as his hands dug through the weapons and pulled out a gun. The she stood him up and they stared at the weapon with a sense of sick fascination. 

Dean’s hand began to raise the gun and he fought with renewed strength. His hand was still traveling up but now was moving at such a slow pace it was almost unnoticeable. They were locked in this battle for several minutes, but Dean was tiring fast. Then he heard Sam’s voice calling through the door. 

“Dean! Dean, open the door! C’mon man, don’t do this. Please, Dean. Open the door.”

A thud indicated that Sam was trying to kick the door in, but nothing happened. And the gun’s journey was almost complete. Dean felt the barrel of the weapon push into the soft skin under his own chin. And he was almost completely out of strength to even slow Selena down, let alone stop her. But she seemed to be waiting and Dean realized that she wanted Sam to see what was about to happen.

Then the door opened and the younger Winchester stepped into the room and froze. 

“Dean, put the gun down.”

“Sammy…” Dean’s tried to say more, although he had no clue what to say, but he couldn’t get the words out. Selena wouldn’t even let him say goodbye to his baby brother. Dean felt one lone tear slip out and run down his cheek.

“Don’t do this, Dean.” 

‘Don’t want to Sammy’ he thought. But then Selena was tightening his finger around the trigger and he tried once more to speak to Sam. “Sammy, I… I can’t…” 

Dean forced his eyes to close, not wanting to see Sam’s face as he pulled the trigger. 

There was a click and nothing happened. Dean’s eyes snapped open as Selena pulled the weapon back to look at it. It was the same one that she’d made him use back at the motel and he’d never gotten around to reloading it. He felt the urge to laugh at her extreme burst of anger. 

“No!” He heard his own voice yell. 

‘Yes, you bitch. Another round goes to me.’

She was about to make him grab for another weapon when suddenly Sam was throwing Dean to the ground and pinning his arms above his head. Dean tried to help his brother restrain himself but Selena was fighting relentlessly. He felt his hands pull free of Sam’s and watched as he pushed the taller man backwards. The he rolled over and got to his feet. Dean was facing the large window that took up the entire back wall. He was close enough to it to see down into the rushing river below. He felt Selena recoil at the sight. Fear, pain, anger, and despair coursed through his head, but this time the emotions weren’t his own. 

And Dean knew what had to be done. He’d seen it many times over the years. Some spirits avoided certain places and situations that they couldn’t face. And many times they couldn’t survive being forced to relive what they feared. And Selena certainly did fear that river. She had admitted that much, but Dean didn’t fully appreciate the depth of those feelings until now. 

Her terror had caused her to loosen her control on Dean’s body and mind. He turned and saw Sam coming towards him. Dean shook his head.

“I got this one, Sammy.”

“Dean?”

Dean threw a wink at his younger brother and then turned back to the window. Selena suddenly became aware of what he was planning but by that time it was too late for her to stop him. Dean once again had the upper hand and he was going to act quickly before he lost it. Without any further thought, Dean brought his arms up to cover his face and then ran forwards. He flung himself threw the large window and down into the rushing river below.


	11. Drowning

Chapter Eleven: Drowning 

Sam watched in horror as his older brother turned away from him, raised his arms and ran forwards, throwing himself through the large window. Had he realized that this was what Dean’s plan had been, he would’ve tried to stop him. But now it was too late.

“Dean!” He shouted, even though he knew it would do no good. It wasn’t like Dean could hear him and just come on back through the broken window.

Sam walked to the broken window as though in a trance, and looked down into the quickly flowing river. He couldn’t see his brother. But he also didn’t see any large rocks that might’ve caused Dean to die instantly upon impact. The water was deep so there was a chance that the older Winchester was still alive. But in the icy cold river, being dragged along by the strong current, Dean wouldn’t last long.

The hunter turned and grabbed the weapons bag from the floor and rushed out the door. His mind was spinning trying to figure out what the hell had happened. Dean had said that he had ‘got this one’ and had winked, which meant that he had had a plan. But then he had thrown himself to his death. Was that the plan? Or had Selena forced him to do it? Sam remembered that Selena had admitted to fearing the river when she’d been talking with Dean earlier, and none of her victims had been drowned, so it looked like Dean had assumed that he could get rid of the spirit once and for all by forcing her to relive her death. And sacrificing himself to end a threat and save other lives was just a very Dean thing to do. Yeah, this was definitely the plan. And if the elder brother lived through this, Sam was going to kill him for it.

Sam almost tripped as he hurried down the spiral staircase in the library and then practically tore the door off its hinges as he exited the large room. Moments later, he was running through the foyer and almost fell down the hole in the floor in his haste to leave the damned house. The hunter wished that he had some sort of reasonable excuse to burn the God forsaken hellhole to the ground. 

Once outside, he was tempted to just circle around back to the river to start the search for Dean. But he knew that he needed to be prepared. So Sam went to the Impala and emptied the weapons out of the duffle bag. Then he grabbed some sweatpants and a hooded sweatshirt from the emergency clothing bag that they kept in the back and added some warm-looking socks as well. He stuffed two thermal blankets into the duffle and zipped it up. Next he snatched up another flashlight. The other two were lost in the basement somewhere and the sun had now dropped below the tree line, cloaking the woods in long, dark shadows. 

Finally ready, Sam took off into the woods and found his way to the river. Then he began to follow the direction of the rushing water. It was moving very fast and Sam could tell how cold the temperature must be just by staying close to it. He prayed that Dean was somehow still alive. His brother was a strong swimmer and could hold his breath a long time. But the cold would affect his ability to survive, and greatly diminish his chances of making it out. And Sam knew he was too far behind to be much help. But he pushed back the fear and hopelessness that was threatening to drown him and made his way down river to where he’d hopefully be reunited with his big brother.

…  
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…  
…

Dean felt the air rush out of him as his body plunged into the icy water. He fought against the extreme panic coming from both himself and Selena. She was trying to escape, to leave his body, but he held her inside of himself with all the mental strength he had. She shrieked and screamed and cursed at him and sobbed. Her emotions were combining with his and he felt them suffocating him just as much as the lack of air was. But he wasn’t going to give in. His lungs burned, his limbs felt heavy, and he couldn’t even tell which way was up. Then Selena stopped trying to get away and starting clinging to him as her essence was eaten away by her terror. It was unclear whether she was trying to hold onto him to stay in this world or to try and drag him away with her, but she didn’t succeed in either. Dean felt the moment that she was well and truly gone. He was left alone with only his own emotions and fear. And that he was used to dealing with.

The hunter tried to force his ridiculously heavy arms and legs to cooperate so that he could swim but they refused to listen to him. They were going numb with the cold and the lack of oxygen. Dean tried harder and finally got them to respond. The current was carrying him along and forcing him downwards, but once he started swimming, he was determined to make it to the surface. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he momentarily forgot what he was supposed to be doing. But his body was now on autopilot and no longer looking to his oxygen starved brain for orders. 

It seemed like it took hours for his head to emerge out from under the rushing water but he knew that it was probably not that long at all. Could a person stay under for hours and still survive? He was pretty sure that the answer was no, but nothing made sense to him and a single thought couldn’t live in his head for more than a second. Dean took long, deep breaths of air before being pulled under once again.

The desperate young man increased his struggles and broke the surface once more. But he was getting tired to the point of exhaustion and he was just so very cold. Even with the fresh oxygen he was gulping in, his lungs still burned. Dean knew he couldn’t survive the river much longer.

He looked around, noticing for the first time that there was no longer much daylight left. Didn’t matter. He saw dry land to either side. He started to swim to the left since he was slightly closer to that side but then his brain suddenly decided to work again and informed him that he’d been swept up to the right when he’d jumped in. That meant the house was to his right and if he got out on the left he’d have to cross the river again to get back to Sam. Not the best idea. With all the strength his worn out body had left, Dean stroked the water with his arms and kicked out with his legs, propelling himself towards his goal. But the water overtook him again.

And again Dean forced himself to the surface. But now his legs would no longer kick and his arms wouldn’t free themselves from the icy depths. It was all he could do to keep his head above water as he was dragged further away from where he’d entered the river. 

Dean was beginning to think that he was going to meet the same cruel fate as Selena had more than two decades earlier, when he saw a fallen tree partially submerged in the water. The bottom portion was on land while the uppermost trunk and branches covered half the width of the river. And Dean was headed right for it. 

The half drowned man braced himself for impact as his body was smashed into the wet wood. Luckily he’d been prepared, and had avoided being knocked unconscious. Dean forced his frozen fingers to grasp onto the branches and hold himself up and out of the water. After a moment, he tried to climb further up, but slipped and went back under. Dean held on for dear life and managed to pull himself partially out once more. This time he held position, gasping for air and waiting for his strength to return. 

Unfortunately, he’d been put through way too much and instead of getting stronger, he felt himself weakening. He shivered uncontrollably as his abused body went into shock. Then his grip loosened on the branches. Dean was unconscious only seconds after he sank below the cold, dark water. His last coherent thought was _‘Sorry, Sammy. Please be okay without me’_.

...  
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…  
…

Sam ran along the river bank, batting away branches and jumping over rocks. He kept looking into the water, hoping to catch a glimpse of his brother. He prayed that he’d see Dean swimming towards him. Or better yet, find the older man safe on dry land. But as he went further down river, he felt despair overtaking his optimism. No one could’ve survived this long in the freezing cold water. He began to think that his rescue attempt was going to be nothing more than a mission to find his brother’s corpse. But if all he could do for Dean was to make certain that he wasn’t trapped here as a spirit, then Sam would at least put his brother to rest.

No. He wasn’t going to think like that. Dean was a fighter. Dean never gave up. Dean would be okay.

Up ahead, Sam saw an uprooted tree blocking his way. He was trying to determine if it would be quicker to go over it or around it when something caught his eye. Tangled in the top branches and half submerged in the water was Dean’s jacket. Sam hurried over to the tree and went as close to the river’s edge as he safely could. But all thoughts of his own safety disappeared when he got a closer look at his brother’s jacket. Because Dean was still wearing it. 

Sam’s big brother was caught up in the tree, hanging by his clothing that had gotten tangled in the branches. But most of his body, including his head, was under water. And he wasn’t moving.


	12. Life Doesn't Suck That Much

Chapter Twelve: Life Doesn’t Suck That Much

Sam crawled across the trunk of the uprooted tree, careful not to fall into the river. Falling in wouldn’t do anyone any good. His injured leg throbbed and protested but he ignored it. He’d have time to nurse his wounds once Dean and him were back on solid ground. And speaking of Dean…

Sam reached down and grabbed a hold of his brother’s jacket collar. With a grunt of exertion, he pulled. Dean’s head and shoulders came up out of the water but the older Winchester was still stuck. And Sam only had one free hand to try and rescue the unconscious man. At least, Sam was praying that his brother was only unconscious and not dead.

The hunter gave a mighty yank but Dean still was caught up in the branches and the resistance almost pulled the shorter man from Sam’s grasp. The younger brother lied down on his stomach, wrapped his long legs around the trunk of the tree, and grabbed onto Dean with both hands. Then he sat up, pulling with all his strength. There was the sound of snapping branches and ripping clothes and then Dean’s body came free. Sam almost tumbled off the tree, but somehow managed to regain his balance. Switching Dean back over to one hand, Sam backed up, pulling his brother along. It seemed to take forever, but soon they were both safely on the river bank. 

Sam dragged Dean a few feet away from the rushing water and then gently laid him down on his back. He looked at his big brother and his heart almost stopped. Dean’s face was pale and had taken on a bluish tinge. His eyelids were partially opened and his lips slightly parted, but there was no movement of his eyes or breath coming from his mouth. He looked dead.

Sam put his ear on Dean’s chest and listened. Nothing. He placed a hand a few inches over his brother’s mouth and nose. No air was pulled in or let out. Dean wasn’t breathing at all.

“No. No, don’t do this to me, Dean.” Sam pleaded.

The younger man started CPR. He performed chest compressions, followed by forcing his own air into Dean’s mouth, followed by more compressions, followed by breathing for Dean again. Sam repeated the cycle over and over, oblivious to the tears running down his face. He had no way of knowing how long Dean had been clinically dead or if it was even possible to bring him back at this point. His brother’s skin was ice cold and his body felt stiff. But Sam couldn’t quit. He couldn’t. Not if there was even the slightest chance of reviving Dean. Dean would never give up on him.

Then, when his last strands of hope were dwindling, Dean’s mostly closed eyes flicked open and he started to cough and gag. A gurgling sound came from his throat and Sam rolled him onto his side so that he could expel the water from his lungs. Finally, after an extremely large amount of water had been choked up, Dean let out a tiny pitiful moan and began to tremble uncontrollably. He was once again breathing, but was now in danger of freezing to death.

Sam opened the duffle bag and laid one of the blankets out on the ground. He dragged Dean onto it and pulled off his brother’s boots. Then he struggled to remove the rest of the hypothermic man’s wet clothes. Dean tried to bat his hands away, but there was no strength behind the action. Sam ignored his brother’s meager struggles and concentrated on getting him warm. 

“Easy, Dean. I’m trying to help. You’re going to be okay.”

Once his brother was completely naked, Sam dried him off as best he could with the blanket he was lying on. Then he pulled the sweatpants up Dean’s cold and trembling legs. Once the waistband was up and over his brother’s hips, Sam realized that the pants were actually his and therefore were too large for Dean. Oh well, they’d work for now. Then he put the warm thermal socks onto feet that had turned blue. He hoped that Dean wasn’t going to suffer any serious cold related health issues. Finally, Sam pulled the hooded sweatshirt over his older brother’s head and managed to get both shaking arms into the sleeves. He covered Dean’s wet hair with the hood. It was strange to see Dean dressed in Sam’s own clothing. For years when they were kids, Sam had always thought that his big brother’s clothes were incredibly large, but now Dean looked so small in Sam’s sweats. 

Dean was still shaking violently, so Sam removed his body from the wet blanket and wrapped him in the dry one. Then he held his brother tightly, trying to share his own body heat. 

Sitting on the forest floor, holding Dean in his arms and feeling the tremors coming from his brother’s severely abused body, Sam was finally able to breathe again. Dean would be okay. Just as he always was. 

…  
…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…supernatural…  
…

Dean felt like crap. First he’d had to cough up what seemed like a small lake’s worth of water. Then, while his raw throat and aching lungs burned like all hell, the rest of his body shook and trembled uncontrollably with cold. He became vaguely aware of someone trying to remove his clothes, so he attempted to fight them off because he was certain that he hadn’t consented to anything that would require him to be naked. But his limbs just wouldn’t cooperate. He heard what sounded like Sam’s voice speaking reassurances. If Sammy said it was okay, who was Dean to argue? Well, he probably would argue if he had the strength to. Consciousness faded out for a moment and when it returned he felt warmth surrounding him. And someone was holding him tightly. Dean was still trembling, but it wasn’t nearly as bad. 

Darkness once again tried to overtake him, but Dean fought it this time. He needed to figure out what was going on. With all he had, the hunter forced his eyes to open and the world to come into focus. And the world seemed to consist solely of an off-white button down shirt. 

Dean pulled back a little and tilted his head up. 

“S’mmy?” He croaked out.

“Hey, Dean.” Sam’s voice was warm and gentle. “How are you feeling?”

“’m ‘kay.” Dean mumbled.

“Yeah, you sound it.” Sam replied sarcastically.

“C…cold.”

“I know, Dean. I’m trying to warm you up. But that’s what you get when you decide to go for a swim in an ice cold river.”

Memories flooded Dean’s brain and he gasped as it all came back to him. Being possessed, jumping through the window and into the river, Selena’s demise, almost drowning, trying to pull himself out of the cold waters, and then drowning. But Sam must’ve saved him somehow. He’d have to get the whole story later.

“D…did wha…what I had t…to.” Dean stuttered out between chattering teeth. Damn he wanted a warm shower. On the other hand, he would rather avoid water right about now.

“Yeah, that was one dumbass plan, Dean.”

“W…worked.”

“She’s gone?”

Dean nodded. He felt the darkness beckoning him and his eyelids fluttered.

“Hey, stay with me, Dean.”

“S…still here, S…sammy.”

“Good.”

For the next few minutes, both brothers were silent. Dean focused on trying to stay conscious, while Sam seemed to be trying to find out how tightly he could crush Dean in his arms. But Dean didn’t complain. He was warming up and although he’d never admit it, he was feeling safe while resting with his little brother. And after the events of the past couple of days, he relished that feeling.

After a while, Sam spoke up.

“It’s getting colder. We should get out of here. Do you think you can walk?”

Dean nodded. He didn’t feel very strong, but if walking would get him to someplace warm, he would find a way to do it.

Sam adjusted his hold on Dean so that he could get up. Dean immediately missed the warmth his brother had provided. Then he was being pulled to his feet. Sam’s arm wrapped around his back and Dean looped his own arm over the taller man’s shoulders. It was a bit of a stretch, but Sam was hunched over a bit to help erase the height difference. 

It was not the easiest walk in the woods they’d ever had. Sam was limping slightly due to what looked like a nasty cut on his leg and Dean could barely hold himself up. It also didn’t help that he had no shoes to wear. By the time they reached the Impala, the thermal socks were torn and Dean’s feet were bleeding. But the hunter ignored the pain as he leaned against his car. As Sam went to open the passenger side door for him, Dean stroked the top of the Impala.

“Oh baby, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“You do realize that the car got a warmer greeting than I did, right?”

“That’s because she never bitches at me.” Dean shot back. He was pleased that his voice was sounding stronger now. 

Sam just shook his head and helped Dean into the car. Once inside, he curled up in the seat, wrapping the blanket tightly around his still chilled body. His head was beginning to pound and he was afraid that he saw a fever in his not too distant future. But hey, at least he was still alive to worry about illness. 

Sam turned on the car and blasted the heat. Dean made himself comfortable and was about to drift off to sleep with the soothing sounds and motion of his beloved car when Sam broke the silence.

“Dean, when you jumped out that window, it was just to get rid of Selena, right? You weren’t really trying to kill yourself?”

“Sammy…”

“Dean, answer the question.”

“Dude, if I was gonna off myself, it wouldn’t be like that. And no, I don’t wanna bite it, okay? We done with this now?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

Dean closed his eyes and tried to ignore all the crap that Selena had dredged up in his head. Had he thought about killing himself? More times than he could count. Would he do it? Hell no. Suicide was all about giving up and Dean Winchester was no quitter. And he’d never do that to Sammy. So, instead, he’d just have to deal with his screwed up craphole of a life and make the best of it. And he knew just how to do that.

“You sure you’re done? ‘Cause I know how much you love your girly moments. We could always pull the car over and hug a bit. I could even braid your hair while we discuss our feelings.”

“Shut up, jerk.”

“Whatever, bitch.”

He smiled as he heard Sam let out a chuckle. In some moments, Dean’s life didn’t suck much at all.


End file.
